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GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 



HISTORY FOR YOUTH. 



NATHANIEL HAWTIIOENE 



NEW YORK 

JOHN B. ALDEN PUBLISHER 

393 Pearl Street 






TROWS 

PRINTJNG MtO BOOKBINDING COMPANY, 

NEW YORK. 



PREFACE. 



In writing this ponderous tome, the author's desire 
has been to describe the eminent characters and re- 
markable events of our early annals in such a form 
and style that the young might make acquaintance 
with them of their own accord. For this purpose, 
while ostensibly relating the adventures of a chair, 
he has endeavored to keep a distinct and unbroken 
thread of authentic history. The chair is made to 
pass from one to another of those personages of whom 
he thought it most desirable for the young reader to 
have vivid and familiar ideas, and whose lives and ac- 
tions would best enable him to give picturesque 
sketches of the times. 

There is certainly no method by which the shadowy 
outlines of departed men and women can be made to 
assume the hues of life more effectually than by con- 
necting their images with the substantial and homely 
reality of a fireside chair. It causes us to feel at once 
that these characters of history had a private and fa- 
milial- existence, and were not wholly contained with- 
in that cold array of outward action which we are 
compelled to receive as the adequate representation 
of their lives. If this impression can be given, much 
is accomplished. 



4 PREFACE. 

Setting aside Grandfather and his auditors, and ex- 
cepting the adventures of the chair, wliich form the 
machinery of tlie work, nothing in the ensuing pages 
can be termed fictitious. The author, it is true, has 
sometimes assumed the license of filling up the out- 
line of history with details for which he has none but 
imaginative authority, but which, he hopes, do not 
violate nor give a false coloring to the truth. He be- 
lieves that, in this respect, his narrative will not be 
found to convey ideas and impressions of which the 
reader may hereafter find it necessary to purge his 
mind. 

Tlie author's great doubt is, whether he has suc- 
ceeded in writing a book which will be readable by 
the class for whom he intends it. To make a lively 
and entertaining narrative for children, with such un- 
malleable material as is presented by the sombre, 
stern, and rigid characteristics of the Puritans and 
their descendants, is quite as difiicult an attempt as 
to manufacture delicate playthings out of the granite 
rocks on which l^ew England is founded. 

Boston, November, 1840. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



CHAPTER I. 



Grandfather had been sitting in his old arm-chair 
all that pleasant afternoon, while the children were 
pursuing their various sports far off or near at hand. 
Sometimes you would have said, " Grandfather is 
asleep ! " but still, even when his eyes were closed, 
his thoughts were with the young people, playing 
among the flowers and shrubbery of the garden. 

He heard the voice of Laurence, who had taken 
possession of a heap of decayed branches which the 
gardener had lopped from the fruit trees, and was 
building a little hut for his cousin Clara and himself. 
He heard Clara's gladsome voice, too, as she weeded 
and watered the flower-bed which had been given her 
for her own. He could have counted every footstep 
that Charley took, as he trundled his wheelbarrow 
along the gravel walk. And though Grandfather was 
old and gray-haired, yet his heart leaped with joy 
whenever little Alice came fluttering, like a butterfly, 
into the room. She had made each of the children 



6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

her playmate in turn, and now made Grandfather her 
playmate too, and thought him the merriest of them 
all. 

At last the children grew Aveary of their sports ; 
because a summer afternoon is like a long lifetime to 
the young. So they came into the room together, and 
clustered round Grandfather's great chair. Little 
Alice, who was hardly five years old, took the privi- 
lege of the youngest, and climbed his knee. It was a 
pleasant thing to behold that fair and golden-haired 
child in the lap of the old man, and to think that, 
different as they were, the hearts of both could be 
gladdened with the same joys. 

" Grandfather," said little Alice, laying her head 
back upon his arm, " I am very tired now. You must 
tell me a story to make me go to sleep." 

" That is not what story-tellers like," answered 
Gi-andfather, smiling. " They are better satisfied 
when they can keep their auditors awake." 

" But here are Laurence, and Charley, and I," cried 
cousin Clara, who was twice as old as little Alice. 
" We will all three keep wide awake. And pray, 
Grandfather, tell us a story about this strange-looking 
old chair." 

Now, the chair in which Grandfather sat was made 
of oak, which had grown dark with age, but had been 
rubbed and polished till it shone as bright as mahog- 
any. It was very large and heavy, and had a back 
that rose high above Grandfather's white head. This 
back was curiously carved in open work, so as to rep- 
resent flowers, and foliage, and other devices, which 
the children had often gazed at, but could never un- 
derstand what they meant. On the very tiptop of 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 7 

the chair, over the head of Grandfather himself, was 
a likeness of a lion's head, which had such a savage 
grin that you would almost expect to hear it growl 
and snarl. 

The children had seen Grandfather sitting in this 
chair ever since they could remember anything. Per- 
haps the younger of them supposed that he and the 
chair had come into the world together, and that both 
had always been as old as they were now. At this 
time, however, it happened to be the fashion for la- 
dies to adorn their drawing-rooms with the oldest and 
oddest chairs that could be found. It seemed to 
cousin Clara that, if these ladies could have seen 
Grandfather's old chair, they would have thought it 
worth all the rest together. She wondered if it were 
not even older than Grandfather himself, and longed 
to know all about its history. 

" Do, Grandfather, talk to us about this chair," she 
repeated. 

" Well, child," said Grandfather, patting Clara's 
cheek, " I can tell you a great many stories of my 
chair. Perhaps your cousin Laurence would like to 
hear them too. They will teach him something 
about the history and distinguished people of his 
country which he has never read in any of his school- 
books." 

Cousin Laurence was a boy of twelve, a bright 
scholar, in whom an early thoughtfulness and sensi- 
bility began to show themselves. His young fancy 
kindled at the idea of knowing all the adventures of 
this venerable chair. He looked eagerly in Grand- 
father's face ; and even Charley, a bold, brisk, restless 
little fellow of nine, sat himself down on the carpet, 



8 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

and resolved to be quiet for at least ten minutes, should 
the story last so long. 

Meantime, little Alice was already asleep ; so Grand- 
father, being much pleased with such an attentive audi- 
ence, began to talk about matters that had happened 
long ago. 



CHAPTER II. 

But before relating the adventures of the chair, 
Grandfather found it necessary to speak of the circum- 
stances that caused the first settlement of New Eng- 
land. For it will soon be perceived that the story of 
this remarkable chair cannot be told without telling a 
great deal of the history of the coimtry. 

So Grandfather talked about the Puritans, as those 
persons were called who thought it sinful to practise 
the religious forms and ceremonies which the Church 
of England had borrowed from the Roman Catholics. 
These Puritans suffered so much persecution in Eng- 
land, that, in 1607, many of them went over to Hol- 
land, and lived ten or twelve years at Amsterdam and 
Ley den. But they feared that, if they continued there 
much longer, they should cease to be English, and 
should adopt all the manners, and ideas, and feelings 
of the Dutch. For this and other reasons, in the year 
1620 they embarked on board of the ship Mayflower, 
and crossed the ocean, to the shores of Cape Cod. 
There they made a settlement, and called it Plymouth, 
which, though now a part of Massachusetts, was for a 
long time a colony by itself. And thus was formed 
the earliest settlement of the Puritans in America. 

Meantime, those of the Puritans who remained in 
England continued to suffer grievous persecutions on 
account of their religious opinions. They began to 
look around them for some spot where they might wor- 



10 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ship God, not as the king and bishops thonght fit, bnt 
according to the dictates of their own consciences. 
When their brethren had gone from Holland to 
America, they bethought themselves that thej like- 
wise might find refuge from persecution there. Several 
gentlemen among them purchased a tract of country on 
the coast of Massachusetts Bay, and obtained a charter 
from King Charles, which authorized them to make 
laws for the settlers. In the year 1628 they sent over 
a few people, with John Endicott at their head, to com- 
mence a plantation at Salem. Peter Palfrey, Roger 
Conant, and one or two more had built houses there 
in 1626, and may be considered as the first settlers of 
that ancient town. Many other Puritans prepared to 
follow Endicott. 

" And now we come to the chair, my dear children," 
said Grandfather. " This chair is supposed to have 
been made of an oak tree which grew in the park of 
the English earl of lincoln between two and three 
centuries ago. In its younger days it used, probably, 
to stand in the hall of the earl's castle. Do not 
you see the coat of arms of the family of Lincoln 
carved in the open-woi-k of the back ? But when 
his daughter, the Lady Arbella, was married to a 
certain Mr. Johnson, the earl gave her this valuable 
chair." 

" Who was Mr. Johnson ? " inquired Clara. 

" He was a gentleman of great wealth, who agreed 
with the Puritans in their religious opinions," an- 
swered Grandfather. " And as his belief was the 
same as theirs, he resolved that he would live and die 
with them. Accordingly, in the month of April, 1630, 
he left his pleasant abode and all his comforts in Eng- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 11 

land, and embarked, with Lady Arbella, on board of 
a ship bound for America." 

As Grandfather was frequently impeded by the 
questions and observations of his young auditors, we 
deem it advisable to omit all such prattle as is not 
essential to the story. "We have taken some pains to 
find out exactly what Grandfather said, and here offer 
to our readers, as nearly as possible in his own words, 
the story of 

THE LADY ARBELLA. 

The ship in which Mr. Johnson and his lady em- 
barked, taking Grandfather's chair along with them, 
was called the Arbella, in honor of the lady herself. 
A fleet of ten or twelve vessels, with many hundred 
passengers, left England about the same time ; for a 
multitude of people, who were discontented with the 
king's government and oppressed by the bishops, were 
flocking over to the new world. One of the vessels 
in the fleet was that same Mayflower which had carried 
the Puritan pilgrims to Plymouth. And now, my 
children, I would have you fancy yourselves in the 
cabin of the good ship Arbella ; because if you could 
behold the passengers aboard that vessel, you would 
feel what a blessing and honor it was for New Eng- 
land to have such settlers. They were the best men 
and women of their day. 

Among the passengers was John "Winthrop, who had 
sold the estate of his forefathers, and M^as going to 
prepare a new home for his wife and children in the 
wilderness. He had the king's charter in his keeping, 
and was appointed the first Governor of Massachusetts. 



13 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Imagine him a person of grave and benevolent aspect, 
dressed in a black velvet suit, with a broad ruff around 
his neck, and a peaked beard upon his chin. There 
was likewise a minister of the gospel whom the Eng- 
lish bishops had forbidden to preach, but who knew 
that he should have liberty both to preach and pray 
in the forests of America. He wore a black cloak, 
called a Geneva cloak, and had a black velvet cap, 
fitting close to his head, as was tlie fashion of almost 
all the Puritan clergymen. In their company came 
Sir Richard Saltonstall, who had been one of the five 
first projectors of the new colony. He soon returned 
to his native country. But his descendants still remain 
in Kew England ; and the good old family name is as 
much respected in our days as it was in those of Sir 
Richard. 

ISTot only these, but several other men of wealth 
and pious ministers were in the cabin of the Arbella. 
One had banished himself forever from the old hall 
where his ancestors had lived for hundreds of years. 
Another had left his quiet parsonage, in a country- 
town of England. Others had come from the uni- 
versities of Oxford or Cambridge, where they had 
gained great fame for their learning. And here they 
all were, tossing upon the uncertain and dangerous 
sea, and bound for a home that was more dangerous 
than even the sea itself. In the cabin, likewise, sat 
the Lady Arbella in her chair, with a gentle and 
sweet expression on her face, but looking too pale and 
feeble to endure the hardships of the wilderness. 

Every morning and evening the Lady Arbella gave 
up her great chair to one of the ministers, who took 
his place in it and read passages from the Bible to his 



ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 13 

companions. And thus, with prayers, and pious con- 
versation, and frequent singing of hymns, which the 
breezes caught from their lips and scattered far over 
the desolate waves, they prosecuted their voyage, and 
sailed into the harbour of Salem in the month of 
June. 

At that period there were but six or eight dwellings 
in the town ; and these were miserable hovels, with 
roofs of straw and wooden chimneys. The passengers 
in the fleet either built huts with bark and branches 
of trees, or erected tents of cloth till they could pro- 
vide themselves with better shelter. Many of them 
went to form a settlement at Charlestown. It was 
thought fit that the Lady Arbella should tarry in 
Salem for a time : slie was probably received as a 
guest into the family of John Endicott. He was the 
chief person in the plantation, and had the only com- 
fortable house which the new-comers had beheld since 
they left England. So now, children, you must im- 
agine Grandfather's chair in the midst of a new scene. 

Suppose it a hot summer's day, and the lattice-win- 
dows of a chamber in Mr. Endicott's house thrown 
wide open. The Lady Arbella, looking paler than 
she did on shipboard, is sitting in her chair and think- 
ing mournfully of far-off England. She rises and 
goes to the window. There, amid patches of garden 
ground and cornfield, she sees the few wretched hov- 
els of the settlers, with the still ruder wigwams and 
cloth tents of the passengers who had arrived in the 
same fleet with herself. Far and near stretches the 
dismal forest of pine trees, which throw their black 
shadows over the whole land, and likewise over the 
heart of this poor lady. 



14: OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

All the inhabitants of the little village are busy. 
One is clearing a spot on the verge of the forest for 
his homestead ; another is hewing the trunk of a fallen 
pine tree, in order to build himself a dwelling ; a third 
is hoeing in his field of Indian corn. Here comes a 
huntsman out of the woods, dragging a bear which he 
has shot, and shouting to the neighbors to lend him a 
hand. There goes a man to the sea-shore, with a 
spade and a bucket, to dig a mess of clams, which 
were a principal article of food Avith the first settlers. 
Scattered here and there are two or three dusky fig- 
ures, clad in mantles of fur, with ornaments of bone 
hansino; from their ears, and the feathers of wild birds 
in their coal black hair. They have belts of shell- 
work slung across their shoulders, and are armed with 
bows and arrows and flint-headed spears. These are 
an Indian Sagamore and his attendants, who have 
come to gaze at the labors of the white men. And 
now rises a cry that a pack of wolves have seized a 
young calf in the pasture ; and every man snatches 
up his gun or pike and runs in chase of the maraud- 
ing beasts. 

Poor Lady Arbella watches all these sights, and 
feels that this new world is fit only for rough and 
hardy people. None should be here but those who 
can struggle with wild beasts and wild men, and can 
toil in the heat or cold, and can keep their hearts firm 
against all difficulties and dangers. But she is not 
one of these. Her gentle and timid spirit sinks 
within her ; and, turning away from the window, 
she sits down in the great chair and wonders where- 
abouts in the wilderness her friends will dig her 
grave. 



QRANDFATRER\S CHAIR. 15 

Mr. Johnson had gone, with Governor "Winthrop 
and most of the other passengers, to Boston, where 
he intended to build a house for Lady Arbella and 
himself. Boston was then covered with wild woods, 
and had fewer inhabitants, even, than Salem. Dur- 
ing her husband's absence, poor Lady Arbella felt 
herself growing ill, and was hardly able to stir from 
the great chair. Whenever John Endicott noticed 
her despondency, he doubtless addressed her with 
words of comfort. " Cheer up, my good lady ! " he 
would say. " In a little time, you will love this rude 
life of the wilderness as I do." But Eudicott's heart 
was as bold and resolute as iron, and he could not un- 
derstand why a woman's heart should not be of iron 
too. 

Still, however, he spoke kindly to the lady, and 
then hastened forth to till his corn-iield and set out 
fruit trees, or to bargain with the Indians for furs, or 
perchance to oversee the building of a fort. Also, be- 
ing a magistrate, he had often to punish some idler or 
evil doer, by ordering him to be set in the stocks or 
scourged at the whipping-post. Often, too, as was 
the custom of the times, he and Mr. Iligginson, the 
minister of Salem, held long religions talks together. 
Thus John Endicott was a man of multifarious busi- 
ness, and had no time to look back regretfully to his 
native land. He felt himself fit for the '^ew World 
and for the work that he had to do, and set himself 
resolutely to accomplish it. 

What a contrast, my dear children, between this 
bold, rough, active man, and the gentle Lady Arbella, 
who was fading away, like a pale English flower, in 
the shadow of the forest ! And now the great chair 



16 OBAFDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

was often empty, because Lady Arbella grew too 
weak to arise from bed. 

Meantime, her husband had pitched upon a spot 
for their new home. He returned from Boston to 
Salem, travelling tlirough the woods on foot, and lean- 
ing on his pilgrim's staff. His heart yearned within 
him ; for he was eager to tell his wife of the new 
home which he had chosen. But when he beheld her 
pale and hollow cheek, and found how her strength 
was wasted, he must have known that her appointed 
home was in a better land. Happy for him then — 
happy both for him and her — if they remembered 
that there was a path to heaven, as well from this 
heathen wilderness as from the Christian land whence 
they had come. And so, in one short month from 
her arrival, the gentle Lady Arbella faded away and 
died. They dug a grave for her in the new soil, 
where the roots of the pine trees impeded their 
spades ; and when her bones had rested there nearly 
two hundred years, and a city had sprung up around 
them, a church of stone was built upon the spot. 



Charley, almost at the commencement of the fore- 
going narrative, had galloped away, with a prodigious 
clatter, upon Grandfather's stick, and was not yet re- 
turned. So large a boy should have been ashamed to 
ride upon a stick. But Laurence and Clara had lis- 
tened attentively, and were affected by this true story 
of the gentle lady who had come so far to die so soon. 
Grandfather had supposed that little Alice was asleep ; 
but towards the close of the story, happening to look 
down upon her, he saw that her blue eyes were wide 
open, and fixed earnestly upon his face. The tears 



OBANDFATHER'S GHAIB. 17 

had gathered in them, like dew upon a delicate flow- 
er ; but when Grandfather ceased to speak, the sun- 
shine of her smile broke forth again. 

" Oh, the lady must have been so glad to get to 
heaven ! " exclaimed little Alice. 

" Grandfather, what became of Mr. Johnson ? " 
asked Clara. 

" His heart appears to have been quite broken," an- 
swered Grandfather ; " for he died at Boston within 
a month after the death of his wife. He was buried 
in the very same tract of ground where he had intend- 
ed to build a dwelling for Lady Arbella and himself. 
Where their house would have stood, there was his 
grave." 

" I never heard anything so melancholy ! " said Clara. 

" The people loved and respected Mr. Johnson so 
much," continued Grandfather, " that it was the last 
request of many of them, when they died, that they 
might be buried as near as possible to this good man's 
grave. And so the field became the first burial-ground 
in Boston. When you pass through Tremont Street, 
along by King's Chapel, you see a burial-groimd, con- 
taining many old grave-stones and monuments. That 
was Mr. Johnson's field." 

" How sad is the thought," observed Clara, " that 
one of the first things which the settlers had to do, 
when they came to the ISTew World, was to set apart 
a burial-ground ! " 

" Perhaps," said Laurence, " if they had found no 
need of bui-ial-grounds here, they would have been 
glad, after a few years, to go back to England." 

Grandfather looked at Laurence, to discover whether 
lie knew how profound and true a thing he had said. 
2 



CHAPTER III. 

'Not long after Grandfather had told the stor}^ of 
his great chair, there chanced to be a rainy day. Our 
friend Charley, after disturbing the household with 
beat of drum and riotous shouts, races up and down 
the staircase, overturning of chairs, and much other 
uproar, began to feel the quiet and confinement with- 
in doors intolerable. But as the rain came down in a 
flood, the little fellow was hopelessly a prisoner, and 
now stood with sullen aspect at a window, wondering 
whether the sun itself were not extinguished by so 
much moisture in the sky. 

Charley had already exhausted the less eager activ- 
ity of the other children ; and they had betaken them- 
selves to occupations that did not admit of his com- 
panionship. Laurence sat in a recess near the book- 
case, reading, not for the first time, the Midsummer 
ISTight's Dream. Clara was making a rosary of beads 
for a little figure of a Sister of Charity, who was to 
attend the BuHker Hill fair and lend her aid in erect- 
ing the Monument. Little Alice sat on Grandfather's 
footstool, with a picture book in her hand ; and, for 
every picture, the child was telling Grandfather a 
story. She did not read from the book (for little 
Alice had not much skill in reading), but told, the 
story out of her own heart and mind. 

Charley was too ])ig a boy, of course, to care any- 
thing about little Alice's stories, although Grandfather 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 19 

appeared to listen with a good deal of interest. 
Often, in a young child's ideas and fancies, there is 
something which it requires the thought of a lifetime 
to comprehend. But Charley was of opinion that, if 
a story must be told, it had better be told by Grand- 
father than little Alice. 

" Grandfather, I want to hear more about your 
chair," said he. 

Now, Grandfather remembered that Charley had 
galloped away npon a stick in the midst of the narra- 
tive of poor Lady Arbella, and I know not whether 
he would liave thought it worth while to tell another 
story merely to gratify such an inattentive auditor as 
Charley. But Laurence laid down his book and sec- 
onded the request. Clara drew her chair nearer to 
Grandfather ; and little Alice immediately closed her 
picture book and looked up into his face. Grand- 
father had not the heart to disappoint them. 

He mentioned several persons who had a share in 
the settlement of our country, and who would be well 
worthy of remembrance, if we could find room to tell 
about them all. Among the rest. Grandfather spoke 
of the famous Hugh Peters, a minister of the gospel, 
who did much good to the inhabitants of Salem. 
Mr. Peters afterwards went back to England, and 
was chaplain to Oliver Cromwell ; but Grandfather 
did not tell the children what became of this upright 
and zealous man at last. In fact, his auditors were 
growing impatient to hear more about the history of 
the chair. 

" After the death of Mr. Johnson," said he, 
" Grandfather's chair came into the possession of 
Roger "Williams. He was a clergyman, who arrived 



20 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

at Salem, and settled there in 1631. Doubtless the 
good man has spent many a studious hour in this old 
chair, either penning a sermon or reading some ab- 
struse book of theology, till midnight came upon him 
unawares. At that period, as there were few lamps 
or candles to be had, people used to read or work by 
the light of pitchpine torches. These supplied the 
place of the ' midnight oil ' to the learned men of 
New England." 

Grandfather went on to talk about Roger Williams, 
and told the children several particulars, which we 
have not room to repeat. One incident, however, 
which was connected with his life, must be related, 
because it will give the reader an idea of the opinions 
and feelings of the first settlers of New England. It 
was as follows : 

THE KED CROSS. 

While Roger Williams sat in Grandfather's chair 
at his humble residence in Salem, John Endicott 
would often come to visit him. As the clerg}^ had 
great influence in temporal concerns, the minister and 
magistrate would talk over the occurrences of the day, 
and consult how the people might be governed ac- 
cording to scriptural laws. 

One thing especially troubled them both. In the 
old national banner of England, under which her sol- 
diers have fought for hundreds of years, there is a 
Red Cross, which has been there ever since the days 
when England was in subjection to the pope. The 
Cross, though a holy symbol, was abhorred by the 
Puritans, because they considered it a relic of popish 
idolatry. Now, whenever the train-band of Salem 



QRANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 21 

was mustered, the soldiers, with Endicott at their 
head, had no other flag to march under than this same 
old papistical banner of England, with the Red Cross 
in the midst of it. The banner of the Red Cross, 
likewise, was flying on the walls of the fort of Salem ; 
and a similar one was displayed in Boston harbour, 
from the fortress on Castle Island. 

"I profess, Brother Williams," Captain Endicott 
would say, after they had been talking of this matter, 
" it distresses a Christian man's heart to see this idola- 
trous Cross flying over our heads. A stranger, behold- 
ing it, would think that we had undergone all our 
hardships and dangers, by sea and in the wilderness, 
only to get new dominions for the Pope of Rome." 

" Truly, good Mr. Endicott," Roger Williams would 
answer, " you speak as an honest man and Protestant 
Christian should. For mine own part, were it my 
business to draw a sword, I should reckon it sinful to 
fight under such a banner. Neither can I, in my pul- 
pit, ask the blessing of Heaven upon it." 

Such, probably, was the way in which Roger Wil- 
liams and John Endicott used to talk about the ban- 
ner of the Red Cross. Endicott, who was a prompt 
and resolute man, soon determined that Massachusetts, 
if she could not have a banner of her own, should at 
least be delivered from that of the Pope of Rome. 

]!^ot long afterwards there was a military muster at 
Salem. Every ablebodied man in the town and 
neighbourhood was there. All were well armed, with 
steel caps upon their heads, plates of iron upon their 
breasts and at their backs, and gorgets of steel around 
their necks. When the sun shone upon these ranks 
of iron-clad men, they flashed and blazed with a splen- 



22 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

dor that bedazzled the wild Indians who had come 
out of the woods to gaze at them. The soldiers had 
long pikes, swords, and muskets, which were fired 
with matches, and were almost as heavy as a small 
cannon. 

These men had mostly a stern and rigid aspect. 
To judge by their looks, you might have supposed 
that there was as much iron in their hearts as there 
was upon their heads and breasts. They were all de- 
voted Puritans, and of the same temper as those \\-ith 
whom Oliver Cromwell afterwards overthrew the 
tlu-one of England. They hated all the relics of 
popish superstition as much as Endicott himself ; and 
yet over their heads was displayed the banner of the 
Red Cross. 

Endicott was the captain of the company. While 
the soldiers were expecting his orders to begin their 
exercise, they saw him take the banner in one hand, 
holding his drawn sword in the other. Probably he 
addressed them in a speech, and explained how hor- 
rible a thing it was that men, who had fled from popish 
idolatry into the wilderness, should be compelled to 
fight under its symbols here. Perhaps he concluded 
his address somewhat in the following style. 

" x\nd now, fellow soldiers, you see this old banner 
of England. Some of you, I doubt not, may think it 
treason for a man to lay violent hands upon it. But 
whether or no it be treason to man, I have good as- 
surance in my conscience that it is no treason to God. 
Wherefore, I have resolved that we will rather be 
God's soldiers than soldiers of the Pope of Rome ; 
and in that mind I now cut the Papal Cross out of 
this banner." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 23 

And so he did. And thus, in a province belonging 
to the crown of England, a captain was found bold 
enough to deface the king's banner with his sword. 

When Winthrop and the other wise men of Massa- 
chusetts heard of it thej were disquieted, being afraid 
that Endicott's act would bring great trouble upon 
himself and them. An account of the matter was 
carried to King Charles ; but he was then so much 
engrossed bj dissensions with his people that he had 
no leisure to punish the offender. In other times, it 
might have cost Endicott his life, and Massachusetts 
her charter. 



" I should like to know, Grandfather," said Lau- 
rence, when the story was ended, "whether, when 
Endicott cut the red cross out of the banner, he 
meant to imply that Massachusetts was independent 
of England ? " 

" A sense of the independence of his adopted coun- 
try must have been in that bold man's heart," an- 
swered Grandfather ; " but I doubt whether he had 
given the matter much consideration except in its re- 
ligious bearing. However, it was a very remarkable 
affair, and a very strong expression of Puritan char- 
acter." 

Grandfather proceeded to speak further of Eoger 
Williams, and of other persons who sat in the great 
chair, as will be seen in the following chapter. 



CHAPTER TV. 

"EoGEE Williams," said Grandfather, "did not 
keep possession of the chair a great while. His opin- 
ions of civil and i*eligious matters differed, in many 
respects, from those of the rulers and clergymen of 
Massachusetts. ISTow, the wise men of those days be- 
lieved that the country could not be safe unless all the 
inhabitants thought and felt alike." 

"Does anybody believe so in our days. Grand- 
father ? " asked Laurence. 

" Possibly there are some who believe it," said 
Grandfather ; " but they have not so much power to 
act upon their belief as the magistrates and ministers 
had in the days of Roger Williams. They had the 
power to deprive this good man of his home, and to 
send him out from the midst of them in search of a 
new place of rest. He was banished in 1634, and 
went first to Plymouth colony ; but as the people there 
held the same opinions as those of Massachusetts, he 
was not suffered to remain among them. However, 
the wilderness was wide enough ; so Roger Williams 
took his staff and travelled into the forest and made 
treaties with the Indians, and began a plantation which 
he called Providence." 

" I have been to Providence on the railroad," said 
Charley. " It is but a two hours' ride." 

" Yes, Charley," replied Grandfather ; " but when 
Roger Williams travelled thither, over hills and val- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 25 

leys, and through the tangled woods, and across 
swamps and streams, it was a journey of several days. 
Well, his little plantation is now grown to be a pop- 
ulous city ; and the inhabitants have a great venera- 
tion for Roger Williams. His name is familiar in the 
mouths of all, because they see it on their bank-bills. 
How it would have perplexed this good clergyman if 
he had been told that he should give his name to the 
KoGER Williams Bank ! " 

"When he was driven from Massachusetts," said 
Laurence, " and began his journey into the woods, he 
must have felt as if he were burying himself forever 
from the sight and knowledge of men. Yet the whole 
country has now heard of him, and will remember him 
forever." 

" Yes," answered Grandfather ; " it often happens 
that the outcasts of one generation are those who are 
reverenced as the wisest and best of men by the next. 
The securest fame is that which comes after a man's 
death. But let us return to our story. When Roger 
Williams was banished, he appears to have given the 
chair to Mrs.' Anne Hutchinson. . At all events, it vvas 
in her possession in 1637. She was a very sharp-M'it- 
ted , and well-instructed lady, and was so conscious of 
her own wisdom and abilities that she thought it a 
pity that the world should not have the benefit of 
them. She therefore used to hold lectures in Boston 
once or twice a week, at which most of the women at- 
tended. Mrs. Hutchinson presided at these meetings, 
sitting with great state and dignity in Grandfather's 
chair." 

" Grandfather, was it positively this very chair ? " 
demanded Clara, laying her hand upon its carved elbow. 



26 ORANDFATEER'S CHAIR. 

"Why not, my dear Clara?" said Grandfather.- 
" Well, Mrs. Hutchinson's lectures soon caused a great 
disturbance; for the ministers of Boston did not 
think it safe and proper that a woman should publicly 
instruct the people in religious doctrines. Moreover, 
she made the matter worse by declaring that the Rev. 
Mr. Cotton was the only sincerely pious and holy cler- 
gyman in ]^ew England. !Now, the clergy of those 
days had quite as much sliare in the government of the 
country, though indirectly, as the magistrates them- 
selves ; so you may imagine what a host of powerful 
enemies M'ere raised up against Mrs. Hutchinson. A 
synod was convened ; that is to say, an assemblage of 
all the ministers in Massachusetts. They declared 
that there were eighty-two erroneous opinions on re- 
ligious subjects diffused among tlie people, and that 
Mrs. Hutchinson's opinions M'ei'e of the number." 

"If they had eighty-two wrong opinions," observed 
Charley, " I don't see how they could have any right 
ones." 

" Mrs. Hutchinson had many zealous friends and 
converts," continued Grandfather. " She was favored 
by young Henry Yane, who had come over from 
England a year or two before, and had since been 
chosen governor of the colony, at the age of twentj^- 
four. But Winthrop and most of the other leading 
men, as well as the ministers, felt an abhorrence of her 
doctrines. Thus two opposite parties were formed ; 
and so fierce were the dissensions that it was feared the 
consequence would be civil war and bloodshed. But 
Winthrop and the ministers being the most power- 
ful, they disarmed and imprisoned Mrs. Hutchinson's 
adherents. She, like Roger Williams, was banished." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 27 

" Dear Grandfather, did they drive the poor wo- 
man into the woods ? " exclaimed little Alice, who con- 
trived to feel a human interest even in these discords 
of polemic divinity. 

" They did, my darling," replied Grandfather ; 
" and the end of her life was so sad you must not hear 
it. At her departure, it appears, from the best au- 
thorities, that she gave the great chair to her friend 
Henry Yane. He was a young man of wonderful 
talents and great learning, who had imbibed the reli- 
gious opinions of the Puritans, and left England with 
the intention of spending his life in Massachusetts. 
The people chose him governor ; but the controversy 
about Mrs. Hutchinson, and other troubles, caused him 
to leave the country in 1637. You may read the sub- 
sequent events of his life in the History of England." 

" Yes, Grandfather," cried Laurence ; " and we may 
read them better in Mr. Upham's biography of Yane. 
And what a beautiful death he died, long afterwards ! 
beautiful, though it was on a scaffold." 

" Many of the most beautiful deaths have been 
there," said Grandfather. " The enemies of a great 
and good man can in no other way make him so glo- 
rious as by giving him the crown of martyrdom." 

In order that the children might fully understand 
the all-important history of the chair. Grandfather 
now thought fit to speak of the progress that was made 
in settling several colonies. The settlement of Ply- 
mouth, in 1620, has already been mentioned. In 1635 
Mr. Hooker and Mr. Stone, two ministers, went on 
foot from Massachusetts to Connecticut, through the 
pathless woods, taking their whole congregation along 
with them. They founded the town of Hartford. In 



28 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

1638 Mr. Davenport, a very celebrated minister, 
went with other people, and began a plantation at ISTew 
Haven. In the same year, some persons who had 
been persecuted in Massachusetts went to the Isle of 
Eliodes, since called Ehode Island, and settled there. 
About this time, also, many settlers had gone to 
Maine, and were living without any regular govern- 
ment. There were likewise settlers near Piscataqua 
River, in the region which is now called ISTew Hamp- 
shire. 

Thus, at various points along the coast of Is"ew 
England, there were communities of Englishmen. 
Though these communities were independent of one 
another, yet they liad a common dependence upon 
England ; and, at so vast a distance from their native 
home, the inhabitants must all have felt like brethren. 
They were fitted to become one united people at a 
future period. Perliaps their feelings of brother- 
hood were the stronger because different nations had 
formed settlements to the north and to the south. 
In Canada and ]!^ova Scotia were colonies of French. 
On the banks of the Hudson liiver was a colony of 
Dutch, who had taken possession of that region many 
years before, and called it New Netherlands. 

Grandfather, for aught I know, might have gone 
on to speak of Maryland and Virginia ; for the good 
old gentleman really seemed to suppose that the 
whole surface of the United States was not too broad 
a foundation to place the four legs of his chair upon. 
But, happening to glance at Chai-ley, he perceived 
that this naughty boy was growing impatient and 
meditating another ride upon a stick. So here, for the 
present, Grandfather suspended the history of his chair. 



CHAPTER V. 

The children had now learned to look upon tlie 
chair with an interest which was almost the same as 
if it were a conscious being, and conld remember the 
many famous people whom it had held within its 
arms. 

Even Charley, lawless as he was, seemed to feel 
that this venerable chair must not be clambered upon 
nor overturned, although he had no scruple in taking 
such liberties with every other chair in the house. 
Clara treated it with still greater reverence, often 
taking occasion to smooth its cushion, and to brush 
the dust from the carved flowers and grotesque figures 
of its oaken back and arms. Laurence would some- 
times sit a whole hour, especially at twilight, gazing 
at the chair, and, by the spell of his imaginations, 
summoning up its ancient occupants to appear in it 
again. 

Little Alice evidently employed herself in a similar 
way ; for once when Grandfather had gone abroad, 
the child was heard talking with the gentle Lady 
Arbella, as if she were still sitting in the chair. So 
sweet a child as little Alice may fitly talk with angels, 
such as the Lady Arbella had long since become. 

Grandfather was soon importuned for more stories 
about the chair. He had no difiiculty in relating 
them ; for it really seemed as if every person noted 
in our early history had, on some occasion or other, 



30 ORANDFATHER'8 GEAIB. 

found repose within its comfortable arms. If Grand- 
father took pride in anything, it was in being the 
possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow 
chair. 

" I know not precisely who next got possession of 
the chair after Governor Yane went back to Eng- 
land," said Grandfather. " But there is reason to 
believe that President Dunster sat in it, when he held 
the first Commencement at Harvard College. You 
have often heard, children, how careful our fore- 
fathers were to give their young people a good edu- 
cation. They had scarcely cut down trees enough to 
make room for their own dwellings before they began 
to think of establishing a college. Their principal 
object was, to rear up pious and learned ministers ; 
and hence old writers call Harvard College a school 
of the prophets." 

" Is the college a school of the prophets now ? " 
asked Charley. 

" It is a long while since I took my degree, Char- 
ley. You must ask some of the recent graduates," 
answered Grandfather. " As I was telling you, 
President Dunster sat in Grandfather's chair in 1642, 
when he conferred the degree of bachelor of arts on 
nine young men. They were the first in America 
who had received that honor. And now, my dear 
auditors, I must confess that there are contradictory 
statements and some uncertainty about the adventures 
of the chair for a period of almost ten years. Some 
say that it was occupied by your own ancestor, 
"William Hawthorne, first Speaker of the House of 
Representatives. I have nearly satisfied myself, 
however, that, during most of this questionable 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 31 

period, it was literally the Chair of State. It gives 
me much pleasure to imagine that several successive 
governors of Massachusetts sat in it at the council 
board." 

" But, Grandfather," interposed Charley, who was 
a matter-of-fact little person, " what reason have you 
to imagine so ? " 

" Pray do imagine it, Grandfather," said Laurence. 

" "With Charley's permission, 1 will," replied Grand- 
father, smiling. " Let us consider it settled, there- 
fore, tha,t Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, and Endi- 
cott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his 
seat in our great chair on election day. Li this chair, 
likewise, did those excellent governors preside while 
liolding consultations with the chief counsellors of 
the province, who were styled assistants. The gover- 
nor sat in this chair, too, whenever messages were 
brought to him from the chamber of Representa- 
tives." 

And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather 
tediously about the nature and forms of government 
that established themselves, almost spontaneously, in 
Massachusetts and the other ]^ew England colonies. 
Democracies were the natural growth of the New 
World. As to Massachusetts, it was at first intended 
that the colony should be governed by a council in 
London. But in a little while the people had the 
whole power in their own hands, and chose annually 
the governoi-, the counsellors, and the representatives. 
The people of old England had never enjoyed any- 
thing like the liberties and privileges which the set- 
tlers of New England now possessed. And they did 
not adopt these modes of government after long study, 



32 ORANDFATnER'S CHAIR. 

but in simplicity, as if there were no other way for 
people to be ruled. 

*' But, Laurence," continued Grandfather, "when 
you want instruction on these points, you must seek 
it in Mr. Bancroft's History. I am merelv tellins: 
the history of a chair. To proceed. The period dur- 
ing which the governors sat in our chair was not very 
full of striking incidents. Tlie province was now es- 
tablished on a secure foundation ; but it did not in- 
crease so rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were 
no longer driven from England by persecution. How- 
ever, there was still a quiet and natural growth. The 
legislature incorporated towns, and made new pur- 
chases of lands from the Indians. A very memorable 
event took place in 1643. The colonies of Massachu- 
setts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and New Haven formed 
a union, for the purpose of assisting each other in 
difiiculties, for mutual defence against their enemies. 
They called themselves the United Colonies of ISTew 
England." 

" Were they under a government like that of the 
United States ? " inquired Laurence. 

" No," replied Grandfather ; " the different col- 
onies did not compose one nation together ; it was 
merely a confederacy among the governments. It 
somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons, 
which you remember in Grecian history. But to re- 
turn to our chair. In 1644 it was highly honored ; 
for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audi- 
ence to an ambassador from the Erench governor of 
Acadie, or jSTova Scotia. A treaty of peace between 
Massachusetts and the French colony was then 
sig-ned." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 33 

"Did England allow Massaclmsetts to make war 
and peace with foreign countries ? " asked Laurence. 

" Massachusetts and the whole of New England 
was then almost independent of the mother country," 
said Grandfather. " There was now a civil war in 
England ; and the king, as you may well suppose, had 
his hands full at home, and could pay but little atten- 
tion to these remote colonies. When the Parliament 
got the power into their hands, they likewise had 
enough to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus 
New England, like a young and hardy lad whose 
father and mother neglect it, was left to take care of 
itself. In 1649 King Charles was beheaded. Oliver 
Cromwell then became Protector of England ; and 
as he was a Puritan himself, and had risen b}^ the 
valor of the English Puritans, he showed himself a 
loving and indulgent father to the Puritan colonies 
in America." 

Grandfather might have continued to talk in this 
dull manner nobody knows how long ; but suspecting 
that Charley would find the subject rather dry, he 
looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow, and saw 
him give an involuntary yawn. "Whereupon Grand- 
father proceeded with the history of the chair, and 
related a very entertaining incident, which will be 
found in the next chapter. 
3 



CHAPTER YI. 

" AccoRDmG to the most autlientic records, my dear 
children," said Grandfather, "the chair, about this 
time, had the misfortune to break its leg. It was 
probably on account of this accident that it ceased to 
be the seat of the governors of Massachusetts ; for, as- 
suredly, it -would have been ominous of evil to the 
commonwealth if the Chair of State had tottered upon 
three legs. Being therefore sold at auction, — alas ! 
what a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such 
high company — our venerable friend was knocked 
down to a certain Captain John Hull. The old gen- 
tleman, on carefully examining the named chair, dis- 
covered that its broken leg might be clamped with 
iron and made as serviceable as ever." 

" Here is the very leg that was broken ! " exclaimed 
Charley, throwing himself down on the floor to look 
at it. " And here are the iron clamps. How well it 
was mended ! " 

When they had all sufficiently examined the broken 
leg, Grandfather told -them a story about Captain 
John Hull and 

THE PINE-TEEE SHILLINGS. 

The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint-mas- 
ter of Massachusetts, and coined all the money that 
was made there. This was a new line of business ; 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 35 

for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coin- 
age consisted of gold and silver money of England, 
Portugal, and Spain. These coins being scarce, the 
people were often forced to barter their commodities 
instead of selling them. 

For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he per- 
haps exchanged a bear-skin for it. If he wished for 
a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a pile 
of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead of 
farthings. The Indians had a sort of money, called 
wampun, which was made of clam-shells ; and this 
strange sort of specie was likewise taken in payment 
of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never 
been heard of. T^iere was not money enough of any 
kind, in mau}^ parts of the country, to pay the salaries 
of the ministers ; so that they sometimes had to take 
quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, in- 
stead of silver or gold. 

As the people grew more numerous, and their trade 
one with another increased, the want of current money 
was still more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, 
the general court passed a law for establishing a coin- 
age of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain 
John Hull was appointed to manufacture this money, 
and was to have about one shilling out of every 
twenty to pay him for the trouble of making them. 

Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was 
handed over to Captain John Hull. The battered 
silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver buckles, 
and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out 
coats, and silver hilts of swords that had figured at 
court, all such curious old articles were doubtless 
thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far 



36 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from 
the mines of South America, which the English buc- 
caniers (who were little better than pirates) had taken 
from tlie Spaniards, and brought to Massachusetts. 

All this old and new silver being melted down and 
coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid 
shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the 
date, 1652, on tlie one side, and the figure of a pine- 
tree on the other. Hence they were called pine-tree 
shillings. And for every twenty shillings that he 
coined, you will remember. Captain John Hull was 
entitled to put one shilling into his own pocket. 

The magistrates soon began to suspect that tlie mint- 
master would have the best of the bargain. Thej" of- 
fered him a large sum of money if he would but give 
up that twentieth shilling which he was continually 
dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull de- 
clared himself perfectly satisfied with the shilling. 
And well he might be ; for so diligently did he labor 
that, in a few years, his pockets, his money-bags, and 
his strong box were overflowing with pine tree shil- 
lings. This was probably the case when he came into 
possession of Grandfatlier's chair ; and, as he had 
worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper 
that he should have a comfortable chair to rest him- 
self in. 

When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young 
man, Samuel Sewell by name, came a courting to his 
only daughter. His daughter — whose name I do not 
know, but we will call her Betsey — was a fine, hearty 
damsel, by no means so slender as some young ladies 
of our own days. On the contrary, having always fed 
heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian puddings, 



GBANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 37 

and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and 
plump as a pudding herself. With this round, rosy 
Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall in love. As he 
was a young man of good character, industrious in his 
business, and a member of the church, the mint-master 
very readily gave his consent. 

" Yes — you may take her," said he in his rough way, 
" and you'll find her a heavy burden enough ! " 

On the wedding day, we may suppose that honest 
John Hull dressed himself in a pluui-colored coat, all 
the buttons of which were made of pine-tree shillings. 
The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences ; and the 
knees of his small-clothes were buttoned with silver 
threepences. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity 
in Grandfather's chair ; and, being a portly old gentle- 
man, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On 
the opposite side of the room, between her bridemaids 
sat Miss Betsey. She was blushing with all her might, 
and looked like a full blown pseony, or a great red 
apple. 

There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine 
purple coat and gold lace waistcoat, with as much other 
finery as the Puritan laws and customs would allow 
him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his 
head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any 
man to wear it below the ears. But he was a very 
personable young man ; and so thought the bridemaids 
and Miss Betsey herself. 

The mint-master also was pleased with his new son- 
in-law ; especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out 
of pure love, and had said nothing at all about her 
portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over, 
Captain Hull whispered a word to two of his men-ser- 



38 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

vants, who immediately went out, and soon retm*ned, 
lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a 
pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky 
commodities ; and quite a bulky commodity was now 
to be weighed in them. 

"Daughter Betsey," said the mint-master, "get 
into one side of these scales." 

Miss Betsey — or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call 
her — did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without 
any question of the why and wherefore. But what 
her father could mean, unless to make her husband 
pay for her by the pound (in which case she would 
have been a dear bargain), she had not the least 
idea. 

" And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, 
" bring that box hither." 

The box to which the mint-master pointed was a 
huge, square, iron bound, oaken chest ; it was big 
enough, my children, for all four of you to play at 
hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might 
and main, but could not lift this enormous receptacle, 
and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. 
Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, un- 
locked the chest, and lifted its j^onderous lid. Be- 
hold ! it was full to the brim of bright pine-tree shil- 
lings, fresh from the mint ; and Samuel Sewell began 
to think that his father-in-law had got possession of 
all the money in the Massachusetts treasury. But it 
was only the mint-master's honest share of the coin- 
age. 

Then the servants, at Captain Hull's command, 
heaped double handfuls of shillings into one side of 
the scales, while Betsey remained in the other. Jin- 



GBANDFATHER' 8 CHAIR. 39 

gle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after hand- 
ful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she 
was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the 
floor. 

" There, son Sewell ! " cried the honest mint-mas- 
ter, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair. " Take 
these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her 
kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every 
wife that's worth her weight in silver ! " 



The children laughed heartily at this legend, and 
would hardly be convinced but that Grandfather had 
made it out of his own head. He assured them faith- 
fully, however, that he had found it in the pages of a 
grave historian, and had merely tried to tell it in a 
somewhat funnier style. As for Samuel Sewell, he 
afterwards became Chief Justice of Massachusetts. 

"Well, Grandfather," remarked Clara, "if wed- 
ding portions now-a-days were paid as Miss Betsey's 
was, young ladies would not pride themselves upon an 
airy figure, as many of them do." 



CHAPTEE YII. 

When his litt]e audience next assembled ronnd the 
chair, Grandfather gave them a doleful history of the 
Quaker persecution, which began in 1656, and raged 
for about three years in Massachusetts. 

He told them how, in the first place, twelve of the 
converts of George Fox, the first Quaker in the world, 
had come over from England. They seemed to be im- 
pelled by an earnest love for the souls .of men, and 
a pure desire to make known what they considered a 
revelation f I'om Heaven. But the rulers looked upon 
them as plotting the downfall of all government and 
religion. They were banished from the colony. In 
a little while, however, not only the first twelve had 
returned, but a multitude of other Quakers had come 
to rebuke the rulers and to preach against the priests 
and steeple-houses. 

Grandfather described the hatred and scorn with 
which these enthusiasts were received. They were 
thrown into dungeons ; they were beaten with many 
stripes, women as well as men ; they were driven 
forth into the wilderness, and left to the tender mer- 
cies of wild beasts and Indians. The children were 
amazed to hear that the more the Quakers were 
scourged, and imprisoned, and banished, the more did 
the sect increase, both by the influx of strangers and 
by converts from among the Puritans. But Grand- 
father told them that God had put something into 



GBANDFATEEB'8 CHAIR. 41 

the soul of man, which always turned the crueUies of 
the persecutor to nought. 

He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers, 
named William Robinson and Marmaduke Steplien- 
son, were hanged at Boston. A woman had been 
sentenced to die with them, but was reprieved on 
condition of her leaving the colony. Her name was 
Mary Dyer. In the year 1660 she returned to Bos- 
ton, although she knew death awaited her there; and, 
if Grandfather had been correctly informed, an inci- 
dent had then taken place which connects her with 
our story. This Mary Dyer had entered the mint- 
master's dwelling, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, and 
seated herself in our great chair with a sort of dignity 
and state. Then she proceeded to deliver what she 
called a message from Heaven, but in the midst of it 
they dragged her to prison. 

" And was she executed ? " asked Laurence. 

" She was," said Grandfather. 

" Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist, 
" I would have fought for that poor Quaker woman ! " 

" Ah ! but if a sword had been drawn for her," 
said Laurence, " it would have taken away all the 
beauty of her death." 

It seemed as if hardly any of the preceding stories 
had thrown such an interest around Grandfather's 
chair as did the fact that the poor, persecuted, wander- 
ing Quaker woman had rested in it for a moment. 
The children were so much excited that Grandfather 
found it necessary to bring his account of the perse- 
cution to a close. 

" In 1660, the same year in which Mary Dyer was 
executed," said he, " Charles the Second was restored 



42 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

to the throne of his fathers. This king had many 
vices ; but he would not permit blood to be shed, 
under pretence of religion, in any part of his domin- 
ions. The Quakers in England told him what had 
been done to their brethren in Massachusetts ; and he 
sent orders to Governor Endicott to forbear all such 
proceedings in future. And so ended the Quaker 
persecution, — one of the most mournful passages in 
the history of our forefathers." 

Grandfather then told his auditors, that, shortly 
after the above incident, the great chair had been 
given by the mint-master to the Kev. Mr. John Eliot. 
He was the first minister of Iloxbur3^ But besides 
attending to the pastoral duties there, he learned the 
language of the red men, and often went into the 
woods to preach to them. So earnestly did he labor 
for their conversion that he has always been called 
the apostle to the Indians. The mention of this holy 
man suggested to Grandfather the propriety of giving 
a brief sketch of the history of the Indians, so far as 
they were connected with the English colonists. 

A short period before the arrival of the first Pil- 
grims at Plymouth there had been a veiy grievous 
plague among the red men ; and the sages and minis- 
ters of that day were inclined to the opinion that 
Providence had sent this mortality in order to make 
room for the settlement of the English. But I know 
not why we should suppose that an Indian's life is 
less precious, in the eye of Heaven, than that of a 
white man. Be that as it may, death had certainly 
been very busy with the savage tribes. 

In many places the English found the wigwams de- 
serted and the corn-fields growing to waste, with none 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 43 

to harvest the grain. There were heaps of earth also, 
which, being dug open, proved to be Indian graves, 
containing bows and flint-headed spears and arrows ; 
for the Indians buried the dead warrior's weapons 
along with him. In some spots there were skulls and 
other linraan bones Ijing nnburied. In 1G33, and the 
year afterwards, the smallpox broke out among the 
Massachusetts Indians, mnltitudes of whom died by 
this terrible disease of the old world. These mis- 
fortunes made them far less powerful than they had 
formerly been. 

For nearly half a century after the arrival of the 
English the red men showed themselves generallj' in- 
clined to peace and amity. They of ten made snbmis- 
sion when they might have made successful war. 
The Plymouth settlers, led by the famous Captain 
Miles Standish, slew some of them, in 1623, without 
any very evident necessity for so doing. In 1636, 
and the following year, there was the most dreadful 
war that had yet occnrred between the Indians and 
the English. The Connecticut settlers, assisted by a 
celebrated Indian chief named Uncas, bore the brunt 
of this war, with but little aid from Massachusetts. 
Many hundreds of the hostile Indians were slain or 
burnt in their wigwams. Sassacus, their sachem, 
fled to another tribe, after his own people were de- 
feated ; but he was murdered by them, and his head 
was sent to his English enemies. 

From that period down to the time of King Philip's 
war, which will be mentioned hereafter, there was 
not much trouble with the Indians. But the colonists 
■were always on their guard, and kept their weapons 
ready for the conflict. 



44: ORANDFATEEU'S CHAIR. 

"I have sometimes doubted," said Grandfather, 
when he had told these things to the children, "I 
have sometimes doubted whether there was more 
than a single man among our forefathers, who real- 
ized that an Indian possesses a mind, and a heart, and 
an immortal soul. That single man was John Eliot. 
All the rest of the early settlers seemed to think that 
the Indians were an inferior race of beings, whom the 
Creator had merely allowed to keep possession of this 
beautiful country till the white men should be in 
want of it." 

" Did the pious men of those days never try to 
make Christians of them ? " asked Laurence. 

" Sometimes, it is true," answered Grandfather, 
" the magistrates and ministers would talk about civil- 
izing and converting the red people. But, at the 
bottom of their hearts, they would have had almost 
as much expectation of civilizing the wild bear of the 
woods and making him fit for paradise. They felt no 
faith in the success of any such attempts, because they 
had no love for the poor Indians. Now, Eliot was 
full of love for them ; and tlierefore so full of faith 
and hope that he spent the labor of a lifetime in their 
behalf." 

" I would have conquered them first, and then con- 
verted them," said Charlie. 

"Ah, Charlie, there spoke the very spirit of our 
forefathers ! " replied Grandfather. " But Mr. Eliot 
had a better spirit. He looked upon them as his 
brethren. He persuaded as many of them as he could 
to leave off their idle and wandering habits, and to 
build houses and cultivate the earth, as the English 
did. He established schools among them and taught 



GRANDFATHER' 8 CHAIR. 45 

many of tlie Indians how to read. He tanglit them, 
likewise, how to pray. Hence they were called ' pray- 
ing Indians.' Finally, having spent the best years of 
his life for their good, Mr. Eliot resolved to spend the 
remainder in doing them a yet greater benefit." 

" I know what that was ! " cried Laurence. 

" He sat down in his study," continued Grandfather, 
" and began a translation of the Bible into the Indian 
tongue. It was while he was engaged in this pious 
work that the mint-master gave him our great chair. 
His toil needed it and deserved it." 

" O Grandfather, tell us all about that Indian 

Bible ! " exclaimed Laurence. " I have seen it in the 

library of the Athenanim ; and the tears came into 

my eyes to think that there were no Indians left to 

'read it." 



CHAPTER YIII. 

As Grandfather was a great admirer of tlie Apostle 
Eliot, he was glad to comply with the earnest request 
which Laurence had made at the close of the last 
chapter. So he proceeded to describe how good Mr. 
Eliot labored, while he was at work npou 

THE INDIAN BIBLE. 

My dear children, what a task would you think it, 
even M'ith a long lifetime before you, were you bidden 
to copy every chapter, and verse, and word in yonder 
family Bible ! Would not this be a heavy toil ? But 
if the task were, not to write off the English Bible, but 
to learn a language utterly unlike all other tongues, 
— a language which hitherto had never been learned, 
except by the Indians themselves, from their mothers' 
lips, — a language never written, and the strange 
words of which seemed inexpressible by letters ; — if 
the task were, first to learn this new variety of speech, 
and then to translate the Bible into it, and to do it so 
carefully that not one idea throughout the holy book 
should be changed, — what would induce you to un- 
dertake this toil ? Yet this was what the Apostle Eliot 
did. 

It was a mighty work for a man, now growing old, 
to take upon himself. And what earthly reward could 
he expect from it ? IN'^one ; no reward on earth. But 
he believed that the red men were the descendants of 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 47 

those lost tribes of Israel of whom history has been 
able to tell us nothing for thonsands of years. lie 
hoped that God had sent the English across the ocean, 
Gentiles as they were, to enlighten this benighted por- 
tion of his once chosen race. And when he should be 
summoned hence, he trusted to meet blessed spirits 
in another world, whose bliss would liave been earned 
by his patient toil in translating the Word of God. 
This hope and trust were far dearer to liim than any- 
thing that earth could offer. 

Sometimes, while thus at work, he was visited by 
learned men, who desired to know what literary un- 
dertaking Mr. Eliot had in hand. They, like him- 
self, had been bred in the studious cloisters of a uni- 
versity, and were supposed to possess all the erudition 
w'hich mankind has hoarded up from age to age. 
Greek and Latin were as familiar to them as the bab- 
ble of their childhood. Hebrew was like their mother 
tongue. They had grown gray in study ; their eyes 
were bleared with poring over print and manuscript 
by the light of the midnight lamp. 

And yet, how much had they left unlearned ! Mr. 
Eliot would put into their hands some of the pages 
which he had been writing ; and behold ! the gray 
headed men stammered over the long, strange words, 
like a little child in his hrst attemps to read. Then 
would the apostle call to him an Indian boy, one of 
his scholars, and show him the manuscript which had 
so puzzled the learned Englishmen. 

" Read this, my child," said he ; " these are some 
brethren of mine, who would fain hear the sound of 
thy native tongue." 

Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the 



48 ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

mysterious page, and read it so skilf iillj that it sounded 
like wild music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were 
singing in the ears of his auditors, and as if the roar 
of distant streams were poured through the young 
Indiaii's voice. Such were the sounds amid which the 
language of the red men had been formed ; and they 
were still heard to echo in it. 

The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the In- 
dian boy an apple or a cake, and bid liira leap forth 
into the open air which his free nature loved. The 
apostle was kind to children, and even shared in their 
sports sometimes. And when his visitors had bidden 
him farewell, the good man turned patiently to his 
toil again. 

]^o other Englishman had ever understood the In- 
dian character so well, nor possessed so great an influ- 
ence over the IS'ew England tribes, as the apostle did. 
His advice and assistance must often have been valu- 
able to his countrymen, in their transactions with the 
Indians. Occasionally, perhaps, the governor and some 
of the counsellors came to visit Mr. Eliot. Perchance 
they were seeking some method to circumvent the 
forest people. They inquired, it may be, how they 
could obtain possession of such and such a tract of 
their rich land. Or they talked of making the In- 
dians their servants, as if God had destined them for 
perpetual bondage to the more powerful white man. 

Perhaps, too, some warlike captain, dressed in his 
buff-coat, with a corselet beneath it, accompanied the 
governor and counsellors. Laying his hand upon his 
sword hilt, he would declare, that the only method of 
dealing with the I'ed men was to meet them with the 
sword drawn and the musket presented 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 49 

But the apostle resisted both the craft of the politi- 
cian and the fierceness of the warrior. 

" Treat these sons of the forest as men and breth- 
ren," he would say ; " and let us endeavor to make 
them Christians. Their forefathers were of that 
chosen race whom God delivered from Egyptian bond- 
age. Perchance he has destined us to deliver the 
children from the more cruel bondage of ignorance 
and idolatry. Chiefly for this end, it may be, we 
were directed across the ocean." 

When these other visitors were gone, Mr. Eliot 
bent himself again over the half written page. He 
dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He felt 
that, in the book which he was translating, there was 
a deep human as well as heavenly wisdom, which 
would of itself suffice to civilize and refine the savage 
tribes. Let the Bible be diffused among them, and 
all earthly good would follow. But how slight a con- 
sideration was this, when he reflected that the eternal 
welfare of a whole race of men depended upon his ac- 
complishment of the task which he had set himself ! 
What if his hand should be palsied ? What if his 
mind should lose its vigor ? What if death should 
come upon him ere the work were done? Then 
must the red man wander in the dark wilderness of 
heathenism forever. 

Impelled by such thoughts as these, he sat writing 
in the great chair when the pleasant summer breeze 
came in through his open casement ; and also when 
the fire of forest logs sent up its blaze and smoke, 
through the broad stone chimney, into the wintry air. 
Before the earliest bird sang in the morning the apos- 
tle's lamp was kindled ; and, at midnight, his weary 
4 



50 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

head was not yet upon its pillow. And at length, 
learning back in the great chair, he could say to him- 
self, with a holy triumph, — " The work is finished 1 " 

It was finished. Here was a Bible for the Indians. 
Those long lost descendants of the ten tribes of Israel 
would now learn the history of their forefathers. 
That grace which the ancient Israelites had forfeited 
was offered anew to their children. 

There is no impiety in believing that, when his long 
life was over, the apostle of the Indians was welcomed 
to the celestial abodes by the prophets of ancient days 
and by those earliest apostles and evangelists who had 
drawn their inspiration from the immediate presence 
of the Saviour. They fi]-st had preached truth and 
salvation to the world. And Eliot, separated from 
them by many centuries, yet full of the same spirit, 
had borne the like message to the new world of the 
'^^\=.st. Since the first days of Christianity, there has 
been no man more worthy to be numbered in the 
brotherhood of the apostles than Eliot. 



" My heart is not satisfied to think," observed Lau- 
rence, " that Mr. Eliot's labors have done no good ex- 
cept to a few Indians of his own time. Doubtless he 
would not have regretted his toil, if it were the means 
of saving but a single soul. But it is a grievous thing 
to me that he should have toiled so^hard to translate 
the Bible, and now the language and the people are 
gone ! The Indian Bible itself is almost the only relic 
of both." 

"Laurence," said his Grandfather, "if ever you 



OBANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 51 

should doubt that man is capable of dismterested zeal 
for his brother's good, then remember how the apostle 
Eliot toiled. And if you should feel your own self- 
interest pressing upon your heart too closely, then 
think of Eliot's Indian Bible. It is good for the 
world that such a man has lived and left this emblem 
of his life." 

The tears gushed into the eyes of Laurence, and he 
acknowledged that Eliot had not toiled in vain. Lit- 
tle Alice put up her arms to Grandfather, and drew 
down his white head beside her own golden locks. 

"Grandfather," whispered she, "I want to kiss 
good Mr. Eliot ! " 

And, doubtless, good Mr. Eliot would gladly re- 
ceive the kiss of so sweet a child as little Alice, and 
would think it a portion of his reward in heaven. 

Grandfather now observed that Dr. Erancis had 
written a very beautiful Life of Eliot which he ad- 
vised Laurence to peruse. He then spoke of King 
•Philip's War, which began in 1675, and terminated 
with the death of King Philip, in the following year. 
Philip was a proud, fierce Indian, whom Mr. Eliot 
had vainly endeavored to convert to the Christian 
faith. 

" It must have been a great anguish to the apostle," 
continued Grandfather, " to hear of mutual slaughter 
and outrage between his own countrj^men and those 
for whom he felt the affection of a father. A few 
of the praying Indians joined the followers of King 
Philip. A greater number fought on the side of the 
English. In the course of the war the little commu- 
nity of red people whom Mr. Eliot had begun to civ- 
ilize was scattered, and probably never was restored 



52 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

to a flourishing condition. But his zeal did not grow- 
cold ; and only about five years befoi'e his death he 
took great pains in preparing a new edition of the In- 
dian Bible." 

"I do wish, Grandfather," cried Charley, "you 
would tell ns all about the battles in King Philip's 
war." 

" O, no ! " exclaimed Clara. " Who wants to hear 
about tomahawks and scalping-knives ! " 

" ISTo, Charley," replied Grandfather, " 1 have no 
time to spare in talking about battles. You must be 
content with knowing that it was the bloodiest w\ar 
that the Indians had ever waged against the white 
men ; and that, at its close, the English set King 
Philip's head npon a pole." 

" Who was the captain of the English ? " asked 
Charley. 

" Their most noted captain was Benjamin Church, 
— a very famous w^arrior," said Grandfather. " But 
1 assure you, Charley, that neither Captain Church, 
nor any of the ofiicers and soldiers who fought in 
King Philip's War, did anything a thousandth part 
so glorious as Mr. Eliot did when he translated the 
Bible for the Indians." 

"Let Laurence be the apostle," said Charley to 
himself, " and I will be the captain." 



CHAPTER IX. 

The children were now accnstomed to assemble 
I'ound Grandfather's chair at all their nnoccnpied mo- 
ments ; and often it was a striking picture to behold 
the white headed old sire, with this flowery wreath of 
young people around him. When he talked to them, 
it was the past speaking to the present, — or rather 
to the future, for the children were of a generation 
which had not become actual. Their part in life, 
thus far, was only to be happy and to draw knowl- 
edge from a thousand sources. As yet, it was not 
their time to do. 

Sometimes, as Grandfather gazed at their fair, un- 
worldly countenances, a mist of tears bedimmed his 
spectacles. He almost regretted that it was necessary 
for them to know anything of the past or to provide 
aught for the future. He could have wished that 
they might be always the happy, youthful creatures 
who had hitherto sported around his chair, without 
inquiring whether it had a history. It grieved him 
to think that his little Alice, who was a flower-bud 
fresh from paradise, must open her leaves to the 
rough breezes of the world, or ever open them in any 
clime. So sweet a child she was, that it seemed fit 
her infancy should be immortal ! 

But such repinings were merely flitting shadows 
across the old man's heart. He had faith enough to 
believe, and wisdom enough to know, that the bloom 



54 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of the flower would be even holier and happier than 
its bud. Even within himself — though Grandfather 
was now at that period of life when the veil of mor- 
tality is apt to hang heavily over the soul, — still, in 
his inmost beino; he was conscious of something that 
he would not have exchanged for the best happiness 
of childhood. It was a bliss to which every sort of 
earthly expei-ience — all that he had enjoyed, or suf- 
fered, or seen, or heard, or acted, with the broodings 
of his soul upon the whole — had contributed some- 
what. In the same manner must a bliss, of which 
now they could have no conception, grow up within 
these children, and form a part of their sustenance 
for immortality. 

So Grandfather, with renewed cheerfulness, contin- 
ued his history of the chair, trusting that aprofounder 
wisdom than his own would extract, from these flow- 
ers' and weeds of Time, a fragrance that might last 
beyond all time. 

At this period of the story Grandfather threw a 
glance backward as far as the year 1000. He spoke 
of the ill- concealed reluctance with which the Puritans 
in America had acknowledged the sway of Charles the 
Second on his restoration to his father's throne. When 
death had stricken Oliver Cromwell, that mighty pro- 
tector had no sincerer mourners than in New England. 
The new king had been more than a year upon the 
throne before his accession M'as proclaimed in Boston ; 
although the neglect to perform the ceremony might 
have subjected the rulers to the charge of treason. 

During the reign of Charles the Second, however, 
the American colonies had but little reason to com- 
plain of harsh or tyrannical treatment. But when 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 55 

Charles died, in 1685, and was succeeded by his 
brother James, the patriai'chs of Xew England began 
to tremble. King James was a bigoted Roman Cath- 
olic, and was known to be of an arbitrary temper. It 
was feared bj all Protestants, and chiefly by the 
Puritans, that he would assume despotic power and 
attempt to establish Popery throughout his dominions. 
Our forefathers felt that they had no security either 
for their religion or their liberties. 

The result proved that tliey had reason for their ap- 
prehensions. King James caused the charters of all 
the American colonies to be taken away. The old 
charter of Massachusetts, which the people regarded 
as a holy thing and as the foundation of all their lib- 
erties, was declared void. The colonists were now no 
longer freemen ; they were entirely dependent on the 
king's pleasure. At first, in 1685, King James ap- 
pointed Joseph Dudley, a native of Massachusetts, to 
be president of New England. But soon afterwards 
Sir Edmund Andros, an ofiicer of the English array, 
arrived, with a commission to be governor-general of 
New England and New York. 

The king had given such powers to Sir Edmund 
Andros that there was now no liberty, nor scarcely 
any law, in the colonies over w^hich he ruled. The 
inhabitants were not allowed to choose representa- 
tives, and consequently had no voice whatever in the 
government, nor control over the measures that were 
adopted. The counsellors with whom the governor 
consulted on matters of state were appointed by him- 
self. This sort of government was no better that an 
absolute despotism. 

" The people suffered much wrong while Sir Ed- 



56 GRANDFATnEWS CHATR. 

mnnd Andros ruled over tliem," continued Grand- 
father ; " and they were apprehensive of much more. 
He had brought some soldiers with him from England, 
who took possession of the old fortress on Castle Isl- 
and and of the fortification on Fort Hill. Sometimes 
it was rumored that a ganeral massacre of the inhab- 
itants was to be pei-petrated by these soldiers. There 
were reports, too, that all the ministers were to be 
slain or imprisoned." 

" For what ? " inquired Charley. 

"Because they were the leaders of the people, 
Charley," said Grandfather. " A minister was a 
more formidable man than a general in those days. 
Well ; while these things were going on in America, 
King James had so misgoverned the people of Eng- 
land that they sent over to Holland for the Prince of 
Orange. He had married the king's daughter, and 
was therefore considered to have a claim to the 
crown. On his arrival in England, the Prince of 
Orange was proclaimed king, by the name of William 
the Third. Poor old King James made his escape to 
France." 

Grandfather told how, at the first intelligence of 
the landing of the Prince of Orange in England, the 
people of Massachusetts rose in their strength and 
overthrew the government of Sir Edmund Andros. 
He, with Joseph Dudley, Edmund Randolph, and his 
other principal adherents, was thrown into prison. 
Old Simon Bradstreet, who had been governor when 
King James took away the charter, was called by the 
people to govern them again. 

" Governor Bradstreet was a venerable old man, 
nearly ninety years of age," said Grandfather. " He 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 57 

came over with the first settlers, and had been the in- 
thnate companion of all those excellent and famous 
men who laid the foundation of our country. They 
were all gone before him to the grave ; and Bradstreet 
was the last of the Puritans." 

Grandfather paused a moment and smiled, as if he 
had something very interesting to tell his auditors. 
He then proceeded : 

"And now, Laurence, — now, Clara, — now, Char- 
ley, — now, my dear little Alice, — what chair do you 
think had been placed in the council chamber, for 
old Governor Bradstreet to take his seat in ? Would 
you believe that it was this very chair in which 
grandfather now sits, and of which he is telling you 
the history ? " 

" I am glad to hear it, with all my heart ! " cried 
Charley, after a shout of delight. " I thought Grand- 
father had quite forgotten the chair." 

" It was a solemn and affecting sight," said Grand- 
father, " when this venerable patriarch, with his 
white beard flowing down upon his breast, took his 
seat in his Chair of State. Within his remembrance, 
and even since his mature age, the site where now 
stood the populous town had been a wild and forest- 
covered peninsula. The province, now so fertile and 
spotted with thriving villages, had been a desert wil- 
derness. He was surrounded by a shouting multi- 
tude, most of whom had been born in the country 
which he had helped to found. They were of one 
generation, and he of another. As the old man 
looked upon them, and beheld new faces everywhere, 
he must have felt that it was now time for him to go 
whither his brethren had gone before him." 



58 GnANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" "Were the former governors all dead and gone ? " 
asked Laurence. 

" All of them," replied Grandfather. '' AYinthi-op 
had been dead forty years. Endicott died, a very old 
man, in 1665. Sir Henry Vane was beheaded, in 
London, at the beginning of the reign of Charles the 
Second. And Haynes, Dudley, Bellingham, and 
Leverett, who had ail been governors of Massachu- 
setts, were now likewise in their graves. Old Simon 
Bradstreet was the sole representative of that de- 
parted brotherhood. There was no other public man 
remaining to connect the ancient system of govern- 
ment and manners with the new system which was 
about to take its place. The era of the Puritans was 
now completed." 

" I am sorry for it," observed Laurence ; " for, 
though they were so stern, yet it seems to me that 
there was something warm and real about them. I 
think. Grandfather, that each of these old governors 
should have his statue set up in our State House, 
sculptured out of the hardest of Xew England gran- 
ite." 

"It would not be amiss, Laurence," said Grand- 
father ; " but perhaps clay, or some other perishable 
material, might suffice for some of their successors. 
But let us go back to our chair. It was occupied by 
Governor Bradstreet from April, 1689, until May, 
1692. Sir William Phips then arrived in Boston 
with a new charter from King William and a com- 
mission to be governor." 



CHAPTER X. 

" And what became of the chair ? " inquired Clara. 

" The outward aspect of oiir chair," replied Grand- 
father, "was now somewhat the worse for its long 
and arduous services. It was considered hardly mag- 
nificent enough to be allowed to keep its place in the 
council chamber of Massachusetts. In fact, it was 
banished as an article of useless lumber. But Sir 
William Phips happened to see it, and, being much 
pleased with its construction, resolved to take the 
good old chair into his private mansion. Accord- 
ingly, with his own gubernatorial hands, he re- 
paired one of its arms, which had been slightly dam- 
aged." 

" Why, Grandfather, here is the very arm ! " in- 
terrupted Charley, in great wonderment. " And did 
Sir William Phips put in these screws with his own 
hands ? I am sui-e he did it beautifully ! But how 
came a governor to know how to mend a chair ? " 

" I will tell you a story about the early life of Sir 
William Phips," said Grandfather. " You will then 
perceive that he well knew how to nse his hands." 
. So Grandfather related the wonderful and true 
tale of 

THE SUNKEN TREASURE. 

Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a hand- 
some, old-fashioned room, with a large, open cup- 
board at one end, in which is displayed a magnificent 



60 OBANDFATHEB'S CHAIR, 

gold Clip, with some other splendid articles of gold 
and silver plate. In another part of the room, op- 
posite to a tall looking glass, stands our beloved chair,- 
newly polished, and adorned with a gorgeous cushion 
of crimson velvet, tufted with gold. 

In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, 
whose face has been roughened by northern tempests 
and blackened by the burning sun of the West Indies. 
He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his 
shoulders. Ilis coat has a wide embroidery of golden 
foliage ; and his waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered 
over and bedizened with gold. Ilis red, rough hands, 
which have done many a good day's woi'k with the 
hammer and adze, are half ^covered by the delicate 
lace rufiles at his wrists. On a table lies his silver- 
hilted sword ; and in the corner of the room stands 
his gold-headed cane, made of a beautifully polished 
West India wood. 

Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William 
Phips present when he sat in Grandfather's chair 
after the king had appointed him governor of Massa- 
chusetts. Truly, there was need that the old chair 
should be varnished aiid decorated with a crimson 
cuslion, in order to make it suitable for such a mag- 
nificent looking personage. 

But Sir William Phips had not always worn a 
gold embroidered coat, nor always sat so much at his 
ease as he did in Grandfather's chair. He was a poor 
man's son, and was born in the province of Maine, 
where he used to tend sheep upon the hills, in his boy- 
hood and youth. Until he had grown to be a man, 
he did not even know how to read and write. Tired 
of tending sheep, he next apprenticed himself to a 



OBANDFATEEWS CHAIB. 61 

ship-carpenter, and spent about four years in hewing 
the crooked limbs of oak trees into knees for vessels. 

In 1673, when he was twentj-two years old, he 
came to Boston, and soon afterwards was married to 
a widow lady, who had property enough to set him 
up in business. It was not long, however, before he 
lost all the money that he had acquired by his mar- 
riage, and became a poor man again. Still, he was 
not discouraged. He often told his wife that, some 
time or other, he should be very rich, and would 
build a " fair brick house " in the Green Lane of 
Boston. 

Do not suppose, children, that he had been to a 
fortune-teller to inquire his destiny. It was his own 
energy and spirit of enterprise, and his resolution to 
lead an industrious life, that made him look forward 
with so much confidence to better days. 

Several years passed away ; and William Phips had 
not yet gained the riches which he promised to him- 
self. During this time he had begun to follow the 
sea for a living. In the year 1681 he happened to 
hear of a Spanish ship which had been cast away near 
the Bahama Islands, and which was supposed to con- 
tain a great deal of gold and silver. Phips went to 
the place in a small vessel, hoping that he should be 
able to recover some of the treasure from the wreck. 
He did not succeed, however, in fishing up gold and 
silver enough to pay the expenses of his voyage. 

But, before he returned, he was told of another 
Spanish ship, or galleon, which had been cast away 
near Porto de la Plata. She had now lain as much as 
fifty years beneath the waves. This old ship had been 
laden with immense wealth ; and, hitherto, nobody 



63 QBANDFATHEIVS CHAIR. 

liad thouglit of the possibility of recovering any part 
of it from the deep sea which was rolling and tossing 
it about. But though it was now an old story, and 
the most aged people had almost forgotten that such 
a vessel had been wrecked, William Phips resolved 
that the sunken treasure should again be brought to 
light. 

He went to London and obtained admittance to 
King James, who had not yet been driven from his 
throne. lie told the king of the vast wealth that was 
lying at the bottom of the sea. King James listened 
with attention, and thought this a fine opportunity to 
fill his treasury with Spanish gold. He appointed 
William Phips to be captaiu of a vessel, called the 
Ilose Algier, carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five 
men. So now he was Captain Phips of the English 
navy. 

Captain Phips sailed from England in the Rose 
Algier, and cruised for nearly two years in the West 
Indies, endeavouring to find the wreck of the Spanish 
ship. But the sea is so wide and deep that it is no 
easy matter to discover the exact spot where a sunken 
vessel lies. The prospect of success seemed very 
small ; and most people would have thought that 
Captain Phips \^'as as far from having money enough 
to build a " fair brick house " as he was while he 
tended sheep. 

The seamen of the Rose Algier became discouraged, 
and gave up all hope of making their fortunes by 
discovering the Spanish wreck. They wanted to 
compel Captain Phips to turn pirate. There was a 
much better prospect, they thought, of growing rich 
by plundering vessels which still sailed in the sea 



GRANDFATHEWS CHAIR. 63 

than by seeking for a ship that had lain beneath the 
wayes full half a century. They broke out in open 
mutiny, but were finally mastered by Phips, and 
compelled to obey his orders. It would have been 
dangerous, however, to continue much longer at 
sea with such a crew of mutinous sailors ; and, be- 
sides, the Rose Algier was leaky and unseaworthy. 
So Captain Phips judged it best to return to 
England. 

Before leaving the "West Indies, he met with a Span- 
iard, an old man, who remembered the wreck of the 
Spanish ship, and gave him directions how to find the 
very spot. It was on a reef of rocks, a few leagues 
from Porto de la Plata. 

On his arrival in England, therefore. Captain Phips 
solicited the king to let him have another vessel and 
send him back again to the West Indies. But Kino; 
James, who had probably expected that the Pose Al- 
gier would return laden with gold, refused to have 
anything more to do with the aifair. Phips might 
never have been able to renew the search if the Duke 
of Albemarle and some other noblemen had not lent 
their assistance. They fitted out a ship, and gave the 
command to Captain Phips. He sailed from Eng- 
land, and arrived safely at Porto de la Plata, where 
he took an adze and assisted his men to build a large 
boat. 

The boat was intended for the purpose of going 
closer to the reef of rocks than a large vessel could 
safely venture. When it was finished, the captain 
sent several men in it to examine the spot where the 
Spanish ship was said to have been wrecked. They 
were accompanied by some Indians, who were skilful 



64 QRANDFATUEB\S CHAIR. 

divers, and could go down a great way into the deptlis 
of the sea. 

The boat's crew proceeded to the reef of rocks, and 
rowed round and round it a great many times. They 
gazed down into the water, which was so transparent 
that it seemed as if they could have seen the gold and 
silver at the bottom, had there been any of tliose pre- 
cious metals there. I^othing, however, could they 
see ; nothing more valuable than a curious sea shrub, 
w^hich was growing beneath the water, in a crevice of 
the reef of rocks. It flaunted to and fro with the 
swell and reflux of the waves, and looked as bright 
and beautiful as if its leaves were gold. 

" We won't go back empty-handed," cried an Eng- 
lish sailor ; and then he spoke to one of the Indian 
divers. " Dive down and bring me that pretty sea 
shrub there. That's the only treasure we shall find ! " 

Down plunged the diver, and soon rose dripping 
from the water, holding the sea shrub in his hand. 
But he had learnt some news at the bottom of the 
sea. 

" There are some ship's guns," said he, the moment 
he had di-awn breath, " some great cannon, among 
the rocks, near where the shrub was growing." 

]SIo sooner had he spoken than the English sailora 
knew that they had found tlie very spot where the 
Spanish galleon had been wrecked, so many years 
before. The other Indian divers immediately plunged 
over the boat's side and swam headlong down, grop- 
ing among the rocks and sunken cannon. In a few 
moments one of them rose above the water with a 
heavy lump of silver in his arms. That single lump 
was worth more than a thousand dollars. The sail- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 65 

ors took it into the boat, and then rowed back as 
speedily as they could, being in haste to inform Cap- 
tain Phips of their good luck. 

But, confidently as the Captain had hoped to find 
tlie Spanish wreck, yet, now that it was really found, 
the news seemed too good to be true. He could not 
believe it till the sailors showed him the lump of 
silver. 

" Thanks be to God ! " then cries Captain Phips. 
" We shall every man of us make our fortunes ! " 

Hereupon the captain and all the crew set to work, 
with iron rakes and great hooks and lines, fishing for 
gold and silver at the bottom of the sea. Up came 
the treasure in abundance. Kow they beheld a table 
of solid silver, once the property of an old Spanish 
Grandee. Now they found a sacramental vessel, which 
had been destined as a gift to some Catholic church. 
Now they drew up a golden cup, fit for the king of 
Spain to drink his wine out of. Perhaps the bony 
hand of its former owner had been grasping the pre- 
cious cup, and was drawn up along with it. Now their 
rakes or fishing-lines were loaded with masses of sil- 
ver bullion. There were also precious stones among 
the treasure, glittering and sparkling, so that it is a 
wonder how their radiance could have been concealed. 

There is something sad and terrible in the idea of 
snatching all this wealth from the devouring ocean, 
which had possessed it for such a length of years. It 
seems as if men had no right to make themselves rich 
with it. It ought to have been left with the skeletons 
of the ancient Spaniards, who had been drowned 
when the ship was wi'ecked, and whose bones were 
now scattered among the gold and silver. 
5 



GO GRANDFATUEWS CHAIR. 

But Captain Phips and liis crew were troubled 
wit]i no such tliouglits as these. After a day or two 
they lighted on another part of the wreck, where they 
found a great many bags of silver dolhirs. But no- 
body could have guessed that these were money-bags. 
By remaining so long in the salt-water, they had be- 
come covered over with a crust which had the appear- 
ance of stone, so that it was necessary to break them in 
pieces with hammers and axes. When this was done, 
a stream of silver dollars gushed out upon the deck 
of the vessel. 

The whole value of the i-ecovered treasure, plate, 
bullion, precious stones, and all, was estimated at more 
than two millions of dollars. It was dangerous even 
to look at such a vast amount of wealth. A sea cap- 
tain, who had assisted Phips in the enterprise, utterly 
lost his reason at the sight of it. He died two years 
afterwards, still raving about the treasures that lie at 
the bottom of the sea. It would have been better 
for this man if he had left the skeletons of the ship- 
wrecked Spaniards in quiet possession of their wealth. 

Captain Phips and his men continued to fish up 
plate, bullion, and dollars, as plentifully as ever, till 
their provisions grew short. Then, as they could not 
feed upon gold and silver any more than old King 
Midas could, they found it necessary to go in search 
of better sustenance. Phips resolved to return to 
Eugland. He arrived there in 16S7, and was i-e- 
ceived with great joy by the Duke of Albemaiie and 
other English lords M'ho had fitted out the vessel. 
Well they might rejoice ; for they took by far the 
greater part of the treasure to themselves. 

The captain's share, however, was enough to make 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 67 

him comfortable for the rest of his days. It also en- 
abled him to fulfil his promise to his wife, by build- 
ing a "fair brick house" in the Green Lane of Bos- 
ton. The Duke of Albemarle sent Mrs. Phips a 
magnificent gold cup, worth at least five thousand 
dollars. Before Captain Phips left London, King 
James made him a knight ; so that, instead of the 
obscure ship-carpenter who had formerly dwelt among 
them, the inhabitants of Boston welcomed him on 
his return as the rich and famous Sir William Phips. 



CHAPTEE XI. 

" Sir "William Phips," 'continued Grandfather, 
" was too active and adventurous a man to sit still in 
the quiet enjoyment of his good fortune. In the year 
1690 he went on a military expedition against the 
French colonies in America, conquered the whole 
province of Acadie, and returned to Boston with a 
great deal of plunder." 

" Why, Grandfather, he was the greatest man that 
ever sat in the chair ! " cried Charley, 

" Ask Laurence what he thinks," replied Grand- 
father, with a smile. " Well ; in the same year, Sir 
William took command of an expedition against Que- 
bec, but did not succeed in capturing the city. In 
1692, being then in London, King William III. ap- 
pointed him governor of Massachusetts. And now, 
my dear children, having followed Sir William Phips 
through all his adventures and hardships till we find 
him comfortably seated in Grandfather's chair, we 
will here bid him farewell. May he be as happy in 
ruling a people as he was while he tended sheep ! " 

Charley, whose fancy had been greatly taken by the 
adventurous disposition of Sir William Phips, was 
eager to know how he had acted and what happened 
to him while he held the office of governor. But 
Grandfather had made up his mind to tell no more 
stories for the present. 

" Possibly, one of these days, I may go on with 



GEANBFATHEW8 CHAIR. 69 

the adventures of the chair," said he. " But its his- 
tory becomes very obscure just at this point ; and I 
must search into some old books and manuscripts be- 
fore proceeding furtlier. Besides, it is now a good 
time to pause in our narrative ; because the new char- 
ter, whicli Sir William Fhips brought over from Eng- 
land, formed a very important epoch in the history of 
the province." 

" Eeally, Grandfather," observed Laurence, " this 
seems to be the most remarkable chair in the world. 
Its histoiy cannot be told without intertwining it with 
the lives of distinguished men and the great events 
that have befallen the country." 

" True, Laurence," replied Grandfather, smiling. 
" We must write a book with some such title as this, — 
Memoirs of my own Times, by Gkandfathek's 
Chair." 

" That would be beautiful ! " exclaimed Laurence, 
clapping his hands. 

" But, after all," continued Grandfather, " any 
other old chair, if it possessed memory and a hand to 
write its recollections, could record stranger stories 
than any that I have told you. From generation to 
generation, a chair sits familiarly in the midst of hu- 
man interests, and is witness to the most secret and 
confidential intercourse that mortal man can hold with 
his fellow. The human heart may best be read in 
the fireside chair. And as to external events, Grief 
and Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and 
within it. Kow we see tlie glad face and glowing 
form of Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, and 
throwing a warm fire-light radiance over all the house- 
hold. Now, while we thought not of it, the dark clad 



TO GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

mourner, Grief, has stolen into the place of Joy, but 
not to retain it long. The imagination can hardly 
grasp so wide a subject as is embraced in the experi- 
ence of a family chair." ^ 

"It makes my breath flutter, — my heart thrill, — to 
think of it," said Laurence. " Yes ; a family chair 
must have a deeper history than a Chair of State." 

" O, yes ! " cried Clara, expressing a woman's feel- 
ing on the point in question; "the history of a coun- 
try is not nearly so interesting as that of a single fam- 
ily would be." 

" But the history of a country is more easily told," 
said Grandfather. " So, if we proceed with our nar- 
rative of the chair, I shall still confine myself to its 
connexion with public events." 

Good old Grandfather now rose and quitted the 
room, while the children remained gazing at the 
chair. . Laurence, so vivid was his conception of past 
times, would hardly have deemed it strange if its for- 
mer occupants, one after another, had resumed the 
seat which they had each left vacant such a dim 
length of years ago. 

First, the gentle and lovely lady Arbella would 
have been seen in the old chair, almost sinking out of 
its arms for very weakness ; then Koger Williams, in 
his cloak and band, earnest, energetic, and benevo- 
lent ; then the figure of Anne Hutchinson, with the 
like gesture as when she presided at the assemblages 
of women ; then the dark, intellectual face of Yane, 
"young in years, but in sage counsel old." K^ext 
would have appeared the successive governors, "Win- 
throp, Dudley, Bellingham, and Endicott, who sat in 
the chair while it was a Chair of State. Then its 



ORANDFATHER'8 CEAIB. 71 

ample seat would liave been pressed by the comfort- 
able, rotund corporation of the honest mint-inaster. 
Then the half-frenzied shape of Mary Dyer, the per- 
secuted Quaker^ woman, clad in sackcloth and ashes, 
would have rested in it for a moment. Then the holy 
apostolic form of Eliot would have sanctified it. Then 
would have arisen, like the shade of departed Puri- 
tanism, the venerable dignity of the white-bearded 
Governor Bradstreet. Lastly, on the gorgeous crim- 
son cushion of Grandfather's chair, would have shone 
the pui'ple and golden magnificence of Sir William 
Phips. 

Bat, all these, with the other historic personages, in 
the midst of whom the chair had so often stood, had 
passed, both in substance and shadow, from the scene 
of ages! Yet here stood the chair, with the old Lin- 
coln coat of arms, and the oaken flowers and foliage, 
and the fierce lion's head at the summit, the whole, 
apparently, in as perfect preservation as when it had 
first been placed in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. And 
what vast changes of society and of nations had been 
wrought by sudden convulsions or by slow degrees 
since that era ! 

"This chair had stood firm when the thrones of 
kings were overturned ! " thought Laurence. " Its 
oaken frame has proved stronger than many frames 
of government ! " 

More the thoughtful and imaginative boy might 
have mused ; but now a large yellow cat, a great fa- 
vorite with all the children, leaped in at the open 
window. Perceiving that Grandfather's chair was 
empty, and having often before experienced its com- 
forts, puss laid herself quietly down upon the cushion. 



72 ORANDFATHER'8 CHAIR. 

Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice all laughed 
at the idea of such a successor to the worthies of old 
times. 

" Pussy," said little Alice, putting out her hand, 
into which the cat laid a velvet paw, " you look very 
wise. Do tell us a story about Gkajstdfathek's 
Chaik!" 



FAMOUS OLD PEOPLE. 

BEING THE SECOND EPOCH OF GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



CHAPTER L 



" Oh, Grandfather, dear grandfather," cried little 
Alice, "pray tell ns some more stories about your 
chair ! " 

How Ions a time had fied since the children had 
felt any curiosity to hear the sequel of this venerable 
chair's adventures ! Summer was now past and gone, 
and the better part of autumn likewise. Dreary, chill 
November was howling out of doors, and vexing the 
atmosphere with sudden showers of wintry rain, or 
sometimes with gusts of snow, that rattled like small 
pebbles against the windows. 

When the weather began to grow cool. Grand- 
father's chair had been removed from the summer 
parlor into a smaller and snugger room. It now stood 
by the side of a bright, blazing wood-fire. Grand- 
father loved a wood-fire far better than a grate of glow- 
ing anthracite, or than the dull heat of an invisible 
furnace, which seems to think that it has done its 
duty in merely warming the house. But the wood- 
fire is a Ivindly, cheerful, sociable spirit, sympathizing 
with mankind, and knowing that to create warmth is 
but one of the good offices which are expected from it. 



74 OBANDFATHER'8 CHAIR. 

Therefore it dances on the hearth, and laughs broad- 
ly through the room, and plajs a thousand antics, 
and throws a joyous glow over all the faces that encir- 
cle it. 

In the twilight of the evening the fire grew bright- 
er and more cheerful. And thus, perhaps, there was 
something in Grandfather's heart that cheered him 
most with its warmth and comfort in the gathering 
twilight of old age. He had been gazing at the red 
embers as intently as if his past life w^ere all pictured 
there, or as if it w^ere a prospect of the future world, 
when little Alice's voice^roused him. 

" Dear Grandfather," repeated the little girl, more 
earnestly, " do talk to us again about your chair." 

Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
had been attracted to other objects for two or three 
months past. They had sported in the gladsome sun- 
shine of the present, and so had forgotten the shadowy 
region of the past, in the midst of which stood Grand- 
father's chair. But now, in the autumnal twilight, 
illuminated by the flickering blaze of the wood-fire, 
they looked at the old chair, and thought that it had 
never before worn such an interesting aspect. There 
it stood in the venerable majesty of more than two 
hundred years. The light from the hearth quivered 
upon the flowers and foliage that were wrought 
into its oaken back ; and the lion's head at the 
summit seemed almost to move its jaws and shake 
its mane. 

" Does little Alice speak for all of you ? " asked 
Grandfather, " Do you wish me to go on with the 
adventures of the chair ? " 

" Oh yes, yes. Grandfather !" cried Clara. " The 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 75 

dear old chair ! How strange that we should have 
forgotten it so long ! " 

" Oh, pray begin, Grandfather," said Laurence, " for 
I think, when we talk about old times, it should be in 
tlie early evening, before the candles are lighted. 
The shapes of the famous persons who once sat in the 
chair will be more apt to come back, and be seen 
among us, in this glimmer and pleasant gloom, than 
they would in the vulgar daylight. And, besides, we 
can make pictures of all that you tell us among the 
glowing embers and white ashes." 

Our friend Charley, too, thought the evening the 
best time to hear Grandfather's stories, because he 
could not then be playing out of doors. So finding 
his young auditors unanimous in their petition, the 
good old gentleman took up the narrative of the his- 
toric chair at the point where he had dropped it. 



CHAPTER II. 

"You recollect, my dear children," said Grand- 
father, "that we took leave of the chair in 1692, 
while it was occupied by Sir William Phips. This 
fortunate treasure-seeker, you will remember, had 
come over from England, with King William's com- 
mission, to be governor of Massachusetts. Within 
the limits of this province were now included the 
old colony of Plymouth and the territories of Maine 
and I^ova Scotia. Sir William Phips had likewise 
brought a new charter from the king, Mdiich served 
instead of a constitution, and set forth the method in 
which the province w^as to be governed." 

" Did the new charter allow the people all their 
former liberties ? " inquired Laurence. 

" No," replied Grandfather. " Under the first 
charter, the people had been the source of all power. 
Winthrop, Endicott, Bradstreet, and the rest of them 
had been governors by the choice of the people, with- 
out any interference of the king. But henceforth 
the governor was to hold his station solely by the 
king's appointment and during his pleasure ; and 
the same was the case with the lieutenant-governor 
and some other high ofiicers. The people, however, 
were still allowed to choose representatives ; and the 
governor's council was chosen by the general court." 

" Would the inhabitants have elected Sir William 
Phips," asked Laurence, " if the choice of governor 
had been left to them ? " 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 77 

"He might probably have been a successfnl candi- 
date," answered Grandfather; "for his adventni-es 
and military enterprises had gained him a sort of re- 
nown, w^hich always goes a great way with the people. 
And he had many popnlar chai-acteristics, being a 
kind, warm-hearted man, not ashamed of his low ori- 
gin nor haughty in his present elevation. Soon after 
his arrival, he proved that he did not blush to recog- 
nize his former associates." 
- "How was that? " inquired Charley. 

"He made a grand festival at his new brick house," 
said Grandfather, "and invited all the ship-carpen- 
ters of Boston to be his guests. At the head of the 
table, in our great chair, sat Sir William Phips him- 
self, treating these hard handed men as his brethren, 
cracking jokes with them, and talking familiarly 
about old times. I know not whether he wore his 
embroidered dress; but I rather choose to imagine 
that he had on a suit of rough clothes, such as he used 
to labor in while he was Phips the ship-carpenter." 

" An aristocrat need not be ashamed of the trade," 
observed Laurence ; " for the czar Peter the Great 
once served an apprenticeship to it." 

" Did Sir William Phips make as good a governor 
as he was a ship-carpenter ? " asked Charley. 

" History says but little about his merits as a ship- 
carpenter," answered Grandfather ; " but, as a gov- 
ernor, a great deal of fault was found with him. Al- 
most as soon as he assumed the government, he be- 
came engaged in a very frightful business, which 
might have perplexed a wiser and better cultivated 
head than his. This was the witchcraft delusion." 

And here Grandfather gave his auditors such de- 



78 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

tails of this melancholy affair as he thought it fit for 
them to know. They shuddered to hear that a frenzy, 
which led to the death of many innocent persons, had 
originated in the wicked arts of a few children. They 
belonged to the Rev. Mr. Parris, minister of Salem. 
These children complained of being pinched and 
pricked with pins, and otherwise tormented by the 
shapes of men and women, who were supposed to 
liave power to haunt them invisibly, both in darkness 
and day-light. Often in the midst of their family 
and friends the children would pretend to be seized 
with strange convulsions, and would cry out that the 
witches were afflicting them. 

These stories spread abroad, and caused great tu- 
mult and alarm. From the foundation of New Eng- 
land, it had been the custom of the inhabitants, in all 
matters of doubt and difficult}', to look to their min- 
isters for counsel. .So they did now ; but, unfortu- 
nately, the ministers and the wise men were more de- 
luded than the illiterate people. Cotton Mather, a 
very learned and eminent clergyman, believed that 
the whole country was full of witches and wizards, 
who had given up their hopes of heaven, and signed 
a covenant with the Evil One. 

ilTobody could be certain that his nearest neighbor 
or most intimate friend was not guilty of this imag- 
inary crime. The number of those who pretended 
to be afflicted by witchcraft grew daily more numer- 
ous ; and they bore testimony against many of the 
best and worthiest people. A minister, named George 
Burroughs, was among the accused. In the months of 
August and September, 1692, he and nineteen other 
innocent men and women were put to death. The 



O RAND FATHER'S CHAIR. 79 

place of execution was a high hill, on the outskirts of 
Salem ; so that many of the sufferers, as they stood 
beneath the gallows, could discern their own habita- 
tions in the town. 

The martyrdom of these guiltless persons seemed 
only to increase the madness. The afflicted now 
grew bolder in their accusations. Many people of 
rank and wealth were either thrown into prison or 
compelled to flee for their lives. Among these were 
two sons of old Simon Bradstreet, the last of the Pur- 
itan governors. Mr. Willard, a pious minister of Bos- 
ton, was cried out upon as a wizard in open court. 
Mrs. Hale, the wife of the minister of Beverly, was 
likewise accused. Philip English, a rich merchant 
of Salem, found it necessary to take flight, leaving his 
property and business in confusion. But a short time 
afterwards, the Salem people were glad to invite him 
back. 

"The boldest thing that the accusers did," contin- 
ued Grandfather, " was to cry out against the govern- 
or's own beloved wife. Yes ; the lady of Sir Wil- 
liam Phips was accused of being a witch and of flying 
through the air to attend witch meetings. When the 
governor heard this he probably trembled, so that 
our great chair shook beneath him." 

"Dear Grandfather," cried little Alice, clinging 
closer to his knee, " is it true that witches ever come 
in the night-time to frighten little children ? " 

"No, no, dear little Alice," replied Grandfather. 
" Even if there were any witches, they would flee 
away from the presence of a pure-hearted child. 
But there are none ; and our forefathers soon became 
convinced that they had been led into a terrible delu- 



80 GRAI^DFATHEU'S CHAIR. 

sion. All tlie prisoners on account of witchcraft were 
set free. Bnt the innocent dead could not be restored 
to life ; and the hill Avhere they were executed will 
always remind the people of the saddest and most 
liumiliating passage in our histoiy. 

Grandfather then said that the next remarkable 
event, while Sir William Phips remained in the 
chair, M^as the arrival at Boston of an English fleet 
in 1693. It brought an army which was intended for 
the conquest of Canada. But a malignant disease, 
more fatal than the small-pox, broke out among the 
soldiers and sailors, and destroyed the greater part of 
them. The infection spread into the town of Boston, 
and made much havoc there. This dreadful sickness 
caused the governor and Sir Francis Wheeler, who 
was commander of the British forces, to give up all 
thoughts of attacking Canada. 

" Soon after this," said Grandfather, " Sir William 
Phips quarrelled with the captain of an English 
frigate, and also with the Collector of Boston. Being 
a man of violent temper, he gave each of them a sound 
beating with his cane." 

"He was a bold fellow," observ^ed Charley, who 
was himself somewhat addicted to a similar mode of 
settling disputes. 

" More bold than wise," replied Grandfather ; " for 
complaints were carried to the king, and Sir William 
Phips was summoned to England to make the best 
answer he could. Accordingly he went to London, 
where, in 1695, he was seized with a malignant fever, 
of which he died. Had he lived longer, he would 
probably have gone again in search of sunken treas- 
ure. He bad heard of a Spanish ship, which was 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 81 

cast away in 1502, daring the lifetime of Columbus. 
Bovadilla, Roldan, and many other Spaniards were 
lost in her, together with the immense wealth of which 
they had robbed the South American kings." 

"Why, Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, "what 
magnificent ideas the governor had ! Only think of 
recovering all that old treasure which had lain almost 
two centuries under the sea ! Methinks Sir William 
Phips ought to have been buried in the ocean when 
he died, so that he might have gone down among the 
sunken ships and cargoes of treasure which he was al- 
ways dreaming about in his lifetime." 

" He was buried in one of the crowded cemeteries of 
London," said Grandfather. " As he left no children, 
his estate was inherited by his nephew, from whom 
is descended the present Marquis of Normany, Lord- 
Lieutenant of Ireland. The noble Marquis is not 
aware, perhaps, that the prosperity of his family orig- 
inated in the successful enterprise of a Kew England 
fihip-carpenter." 
6 



CHAPTER III. 

" At the death of Sir "William Phips," proceeded 
Grandfather, " our chair was bequeathed to Mr. Eze- 
kiel Cheever, a famous school-master in Boston. This 
old gentleman came from London in 1637, and had 
been teaching school ever since ; so that there were 
now aged nien, grandfathers like myself, to whom 
Master Cheever had taught their alphabet. He was 
a person of venerable aspect, and wore a long white 
beard." 

" Was the cliair placed in his school ? " asked Char- 
ley. ^ 

" Yes, in his school," answered Grandfather ; " and 
we may safely say that it had never before been re- 
garded with such awful reverence, — no, not even when 
the old governors of Massachusetts sat in it. Even 
you, Charley, my boy, would have felt some respect 
for the chair if j'ou had seen it occupied by this fa- 
mous schoolmaster." 

And here Grandfather endeavored to give his au- 
ditors an idea liow matters were managed in schools 
above a hundred 3'ears ago. As this will probably be 
an interesting subject to our readers, we shall make a 
separate sketch of it, and call it 

THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL. 

Now, imagine yourselves, my children, in Master 
Ezekiel Cheever's school-room. It is a large, dingy 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 83 

room, with a sanded floor, and is lighted by windows 
that tnrn on hinges and have little diamond shaped 
panes of glass. The scholars sit on long benches, 
with desks before them. At one end of the room is 
a great fire-place, so very spacious that there is room 
enough for three or four boys to stand in each of the 
chinmey corners. This was the good old fashion of 
fireplaces when there was wood enough in the forests 
to keep people warm without their digging into the 
bowels of the earth for coal. 

It is a winter's day when we take our peep into the 
school-room. See what great logs of wood have been 
rolled into the fireplace, and what a broad, bright 
blaze goes leaping up the chimney ! And every few 
moments a vast cloud of smoke is puffed into the 
room, which sails slowly over the heads of the schol- 
ars, until it gradually settles upon the walls and ceil- 
ing. They are blackened with the smoke of many 
years already. 

ISText look at our old historic chair ! It is placed, 
you perceive, in the most comfortable part of the 
room, where the generous glow of the fire is suffi- 
ciently felt without being too intensely hot. How 
stately the old chair looks, as if it remembered its 
many famous occupants, but jQt were conscious that 
a greater man is sitting in it now ! Do yon see the 
venerable school-master, severe in aspect, with a 
black skullcap on his head, like an ancient Puritan, 
and the snow of his white beard drifting down to his 
very girdle ? What boy would dare to play, or whis- 
per, or even glance aside from his book, while Mas- 
ter Cheever is on the look-out behind his spectacles ! 
For such offenders, if any such there be, a rod of 



84 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

birch is hanging over the fire-place, and a heavy 
ferule lies on the master's desk. 

And now school is begun. What a murmur of 
multitudinous tongues, like the whispering leaves of 
a wind-stirred oak, as the scholars con over their 
various tasks ! Buz ! buz ! buz ! Amid just such 
a murmur has Master Cheever spent above sixty 
years ; and long habit has made it as pleasant to him 
as the hum of a bee-hive when the insects are busy in 
the sunshine. 

Now a class in Latin is called to recite. Forth 
steps a row of queer-looking little fellows, wearing 
square-skirted coats and small-clothes, with buttons 
at the knee. They look like so many grandfathers 
in their second childhood. These lads are to be seut 
to Cambridge and educated for tlie learned profes- 
sions. Old Master Cheever has lived so long, and 
seen so many generations of school-boys grow up to 
be men, that now he can almost prophesy what sort 
of a man each boy will be* One urchin shall here- 
after be a doctor, and administer pills and potions, 
and stalk gravely through life, perfumed with assa- 
foetida. Another shall wrangle at the bar, and fight 
his way to wealth and honors, and, in his declining 
age, shall be a worshipful member of his Majesty's 
council. A third — and he the master's favorite — 
shall be a worthy successor to the old Puritan minis- 
ters now in their graves ; he shall preach with great 
unction and effect, and leave volumes of sermons, in 
print and manuscript, for the benefit of future gen- 
erations. 

But, as they are merely school-boys now, their busi- 
ness is to construe Virgil. Poor Virgil, whose verses, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 85 

which he took so much pains to polish, have been 
miss-canned, and mis-parsed, and mis-interpreted by 
so many generations of idle school-boys ! There, 
sit down, ye Latinists. Two or three of yon, I fear, 
are doomed to feel the master's ferule. 

Next comes a class in Aiithmetic. These boys are 
to be merchants, shop-keepers, and mechanics of a 
future period. Hitherto they have traded only in 
marbles and apples. Hereafter some will send ves- 
sels to England for broadcloths and all sorts of manu- 
factured wares, and to the "West Indies for sugar, and 
rum, and coffee. Others will stand behind counters, 
and measure tape, and ribbon, and cambric by the 
yard. Others will upheave the blacksmith's ham- 
mer, or drive the plane over the carpenter's bench, 
or take the lapstone and the awl and learn the trade 
of shoemaking. Many will follow the sea, and become 
bold, rough sea-captains. 

This class of boys, in short, must supply the world 
with those active, skilful hands, and clear, sagacious 
heads, without which the affairs of life would be 
thrown into confusion by the theories of studious and 
visionary men. Wherefore, teach them their multi- 
plication table, good Master Cheever, and whip them 
well when, they deserve it ; for much of the country's 
welfare depends on these boys. 

But, alas ! while we have been thinking of other 
matters. Master Cheever's watchful eye has caught 
two boys at play. IN^ow we shall see awful times. 
The two malefactors are summoned before the mas- 
ter's chair, wherein he sits with the terror of a judge 
upon his brow. Our old chair is now a judgment- 
seat. Ah, Master Cheever has taken down that ter- 



86 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

rible birch-rod ! Short is the trial, — the sentence 
quickly passed, — and now the judge prepares to exe- 
cute it in person. Thwack ! thwack ! thwack ! In 
these good old times, a school-master's blows were 
well laid on. 

See ! the birch-rod has lost several of its twigs, 
and will hardly serve for another execution. Mercy 
on ns, what a bellowing the urchins make ! My ears 
are almost deafened, though the clamor comes through 
the far length of a hundred and fifty years. There, 
go to your seats, poor boys ; and do not cry, sweet 
little Alice, for they have ceased to feel the pain a 
long time since. 

And thus the forenoon passes away, l^ow it is 
twelve o'clock. The master looks at his great silver 
watch, and then, with tiresome deliberation, puts the 
ferule into his desk. The little multitude await the 
word of dismissal with almost irrepressible impa- 
tience. 

" You are dismissed," says Master Cheever. 

The hoys retire, treading softly until they have 
passed the threshold ; but, fairly out of the school- 
room, lo, Mdiat a joyous shout ! — what a scampering 
and tramping of feet ! — what a sense of recovered free- 
dom expressed in the merry uproar of all their voices ! 
What care they for the ferule and birch-rod now ? 
"Were boys created merely to study Latin and arith- 
metic ? No ; the better purposes of their being are 
to sport, to leap, to run, to shout, to slide upon the 
ice, to snow-ball. 

Happy boys ! Enjoy your playtime now, and come 
again to study and to feel the birch-rod and the ferule 
to morrow ; not till to-morrow ; for to-day is Thurs- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 87 

day-lecture ; and, ever since the settlement of Massa- 
chusetts, there has been no school on Thursday after- 
noons. Therefore, sport, boys, while you may, for 
the morrow cometh, with the birch-rod and the ferule ; 
and after that another Morrow, with troubles of its 
own. 

Now the master has set everything to rights, and is 
ready to go home to dinner. Yet he goes reluct- 
antly. The old man has spent so much of his life in 
the smoky, noisy, buzzing school-room, that, when he 
has a holiday, he feels as if his place were lost and 
liimself a stranger in the world. But forth he goes ; 
and there stands our old chair, vacant and solitary, 
till good Master Cheever resumes his seat in it to- 
morrow mornino:. 



" Grandfather," said Charley, " I wonder whether 
the boys did not use to upset the old chair when the 
schoolmaster was out." 

" There is a tradition," replied Grandfather, " that 
one of its arms was dislocated in some such manner. 
But I cannot believe that any school-boy would be- 
have so naughtily." 

As it was now later than little Alice's usual bed- 
time, Grandfather broke off his narrative, promising 
to talk more about Master Cheever and his scholars 
some other evening. 



CHAPTER ly. 

AccoEDiNGLT, the next evening, Grandfather re- 
sumed the history of his beloved chair. 

" Master Ezekiel Cheever," said he, " died in 1707, 
after having taught school about seventy years. It 
would require a pretty good scholar in arithmetic to 
tell how many stripes he had inflicted, and how 
many birch-rods he had worn out, during all that 
time, in his fatherly tenderness for his pupils. Al- 
most all the great men of that period, and for many 
years back, had been whipt into eminence by Master 
Cheever. Moreover, he had written a Latin Acci- 
dence, which was nsed in schools more than half a 
century after his death ; so that the good old man, 
even in his grave, was still the cause of trouble and 
stripes to idle school-boys." 

Grandfather proceeded to say, that, when Master 
Cheever died, he bequeathed the chair to the most 
learned man that was educated at his school, or that 
liad ever been born in America. This was the re- 
nowned Cotton Mather, minister of the Old North 
Church in Boston. 

"And author of the Magnalia, Grandfather, which 
we sometimes see you reading," said Laurence. 

" Yes, Laurence, " replied Grandfather. " The 
Magnalia is a strange, pedantic history, in which true 
events and real personages move before the reader 
with the dreamy aspect which they wore in Cotton 



QRANDFATEER'8 CHAIR. 89 

Mather's singular mind. This huge volume, how- 
ev^er, was written and published before our chair 
came into his possession. But, as he M'as the author 
of more books than there are days in the year, we 
may conclude that he wrote a great deal while sitting 
in this chair." 

" I am tired of these school-masters and learned 
men," said Charley. " I wish some stirring man, 
that knew how to do something in the world, like Sir 
William Pliips, would sit in the chair." 

" Such men seldom have leisure to sit quietly in a 
chair," said Grandfather. " We must make the best 
of such people as we have." 

As Cotton Mather was a very distinguished man. 
Grandfather took some pains to give the children a 
lively conception of his character. Over the door of 
his library were painted these words — be shokt, — as 
a warning to visitors that they must not do the world 
60 much harm as needlessly to interrupt this great 
man's wonderful labors. On entering the room you 
would probably behold it crowded, and piled, and 
heaped with books. There were huge, ponderous 
folios, and quartos, and little duodecimos, in English, 
Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Chaldaic, and all other lan- 
guages that either originated at the confusion of 
Babel or have since come into use. 

All these books, no doubt, were tossed about in 
confusion, thus forming a visible emblem of the man- 
ner in which their contents were crowded into Cotton 
Mather's brain. And in the middle of the room 
stood a table, on which, besides printed volumes, were 
strewn manuscript sermons, historical tracts, and po- 
litical pamphlets, all wa-itten in such a queer, blind, 



90 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

crabbed, fantastical hand, that a writing-master 
would have gone raving mad at the sight of them. 
Bjthis table stood Grandfather's chair, which seemed 
to have contracted an air of deep erudition, as if its 
cushion were stuffed with Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, 
and other hard matters. 

In this chair, from one year's end to another, sat 
that prodigious bookworm, Cotton Mather, some- 
times devouring a great book, and sometimes scrib- 
bling one as big. In Grandfather's younger days 
there used to be a wax figure of him in one of the 
Boston museums, representing a solemn, darked- 
visaged person, in a minister's black gown, and with 
a black-letter volume before him. 

" It is difficult, my children," observed Grandfather, 
" to make you understand such a character as Cotton 
Mather's, in whom there was so much good, and yet 
so many failings and frailties. Undoubtedly he was 
a pious man. Often he kept fasts; and once, for 
three whole days, he allowed himself not a morsel 
of food, but spent the time in prayer and religious 
meditation. Many a live-long night did he watch and 
pray. These fasts and vigils made him meagre and 
haggard, and probably caused him to appear as if he 
hardly belonged to the world." 

" "Was not the witchcraft delusion partly caused by 
Cotton Mather ? " inquired Laurence. 

" He was the chief agent of the mischief," answered 
Grandfather ; " but we will not suppose that he acted 
otherwise than conscientiously. lie believed that 
there were evil spirits all about the world. Doubtless 
he imagined that they were hidden in the corners and 
crevices of his library, and that they peeped out from 



OBAND FATHER'S CHAIR. 91 

among the leaves of many of his books, as he turned 
them over, at midniglit. He supposed that these un- 
lovely demons were everywhere, in the sunshine as 
well as in the darkness, and that they were hidden in 
men's hearts, and stole into their most secret thoughts." 

Here Grandfather was interrupted by little Alice, 
who hid her face in his lap, and murmured a wish 
that he would not talk any more about Cotton Mather 
and the evil spirits. Grandfather kissed her, and 
told her that angels were the only spirits whom she 
had anything to do with. He then spoke of the 
public affairs of the period. 

A new war between France and England had broken 
out in 1702, and had been raging ever since. In the 
course of it, New England suffered much injury from 
the French and Indians, who often came through the 
woods from Canada and assaulted the frontier towns. 
Yillages were sometimes burned, and the inhabitants 
slaughtered, within a day's ride of Boston. The peo- 
ple of New England had a bitter hatred against the 
French, not only for the mischief which they did with 
their own hands, but because they incited the Indians 
to hostility. 

The New Englanders knew that they could never 
dwell in security until the provinces of France should 
be subdued and brought under the English govern- 
ment. They frequently, in time of war, midertook 
military expeditions against Acadia and Canada, and 
sometimes besieged the fortresses by which those ter- 
ritories were defended. But the most earnest wish of 
their hearts was to take Quebec, and so get possession 
of the whole province of Canada. Sir William Phips 
had once attempted it, but without success. 



92 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Fleets and soldiers were often sent from England to 
assist the colonists in their warlike undertakings. In 
1710 Port Koyal, a fortress of Acadia, was taken by 
the English. The next year, in the month of June, a 
fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, 
arrived in Boston Harbor. On board of this fleet was 
the English General Hill, with seven regiments of 
soldiers, who had been fighting nnder the Dnke of 
Marlborough in Flanders. Tlie government of Mas- 
sachusetts was called upon to find provisions for the 
army and fleet, and to raise more men to assist in 
taking Canada. 

What with recruiting and drilling of soldiers, there 
was now nothing but warlike bustle in the streets of 
Boston. The drum and fife, the rattle of arms, and 
the shouts of boys were heard from morning till night. 
In about a month the fleet set sail, carrying four regi- 
ments from Xew England and Kew York, besides the 
English soldiers. Tlie whole army amounted to at 
least seven thousand men. They steered for the 
mouth of the river St. Lawrence. 

" Cotton Mather prayed most fervently for their 
success," continued Grandfather, " both in his pulpit 
and when he kneeled down in the solitude of liis 
library, resting his face on our old chair. But Provi- 
dence ordered the result otherwise. In a few weeks 
tidings were received that eight or nine of the vessels 
had been wrecked in the St. Lawrence, and that above 
a thousand drowned soldiers had been washed ashore 
on the banks of that mighty river. After this mis- 
fortune Sir Hovenden Walker set sail for England ; 
and many pious people began to think it a sin even to 
wish for the conquest of Canada." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 93 

" I would never give it up so," cried Charley. 

" JSTor did they, as we shall see," replied Grand- 
father. " However, no more attempts were made 
during this war, which came to a close in 1713. The 
people of Xew England were pi'obably glad of some 
repose ; for their young men had been made soldiers, 
till many of them were fit for nothing else. And those 
who remained at home had been heavily taxed to pay 
for the arms, ammunition, fortifications, and all the 
other endless expenses of a war. There was great 
need of the prayers of Cotton Mather and of all pious 
men, not only on account of the sufferings of the peo- 
ple, but because the old moral and religious character 
of Xew England was in danger of being utterly lost." 

'" How glorious it would have been," remarked Lau- 
rence, " if our forefathers could have kept the country 
unspotted with blood." 

"Yes," said Grandfatlier ; ''but there was a stern, 
warlike spirit in theni from the beginning. They 
seem never to have thought of questioning either the 
moral it}' or piety of war." 

The next event which Grandfather spoke of was 
one that Cotton Mather, as well as most of the other 
inhabitants of Xevv" England, heartily rejoiced at. 
This was the accession of the Elector of Hanover to 
the throne of England, in 1711, on the death of Queen 
Anne. Hitherto the people had been in continual 
dread that the male Hue of the Stuarts, who were de- 
scended from the beheaded King Charles and the ban- 
ished King James, would be restored to the throne. 
In that case, as the Stuart family were Roman Catho- 
lics, it was supposed tliat they would attempt to es- 
tablish their own relia'iou throuirhout the British do- 



94 GBANDFATEEB'S CHAIR. 

minions. But the Elector of Hanover and all his race 
were Protestants ; so that now the descendants of the 
old Puritans were relieved from many fears and dis- 
quietudes. 

" The importance of this event," observed Grand- 
father, " was a thousand times greater than that of a 
Presidential Election in our own days. If the people 
dislike their President, they may get rid of him in 
four years ; whereas a dynasty of kings may wear the 
crown for an unlimited period." 

The German elector was proclaimed king from the 
balcony of the town-house in Boston, by the title of 
George the First ; while the trumpets sounded, and 
the people cried Amen. That night the town was 
illuminated ; and Cotton Mather threw aside book 
and pen, and left Grandfather's chair vacant, while 
he walked hither and thither to witness the rejoic- 
inofs. 



CHAPTER Y. 

" Cotton Mather," continued Grandfather, " was 
a bitter enemy to Governor Dudley ; and nobody ex- 
ulted more than he when that crafty politician was 
removed from the government, and succeeded by 
Colonel Shute. This took place in 1716. The new 
governor had been an officer in the renowned Duke 
of Marlborough's army, and had fought in some of 
the great battles in Flanders." 

" Now I hope," said Charley, " we shall hear of 
his doing great things." 

" I am afraid you will be disappointed, Chai-ley," 
answered Grandfather. " It is true that Colonel 
Shute had probably never led so unquiet a life while 
fighting the French as he did now, while governing a 
province of Great Britain. But his troubles consisted 
almost entirely of dissensions with the Legislature. 
The king had ordered him to lay claim to a fixed 
salary ; but the representatives of the people insisted 
upon paying him only such sums from year to year 
as they saw fit." 

Grandfather here explained some of the circum- 
stances that made the situation of a colonial governor 
so difficult and irksome. There was not the same feel- 
ing towards the chief magistrate now that had existed 
while he was chosen by the free suffrages of the peo- 
ple. It was felt that as the king appointed the gov- 
ernor, and as he held his office during the king's 



96 ORANDFATHER'8 CHAIR. 

pleasure, it would be his great object to please the 
king. But the people thought that a governor 
ought to have nothing in view but the best interests 
of those whom he governed. 

" The governor," remarked Grandfather, " had two 
masters to serve, — the king who appointed hun ; and 
the people, on Mdiom he depended for his paj. Few 
men in this position would have ingenuity enough to 
satisfy either party. Colonel Shute, though a good- 
natured, well-meaning man, succeeded so ill with the 
people, that, in 1722, he suddenly went away to Eng- 
land and made complaint to King George. In the 
meantime Lieutenant-Governor Dummer directed the 
affairs of the province, and carried on a long and 
bloody war with the Indians." 

" But where was our chair all this time ? " asked 
Clara. 

" It still remained in Cotton Mather's library," re- 
plied Grandfather ; " and I must not omit to tell you 
an incident which is very much to the honor of this 
celebrated man. It is the more proper, too, that you 
should hear it, because it will show you what a terri- 
ble calamity the smallpox was to our forefathers. 
The history of the province (and, of course, the his- 
tory of our chair) would be incomplete without par- 
ticular mention of it." 

Accordingly Grandfather told the children a story, 
to which, for want of a better title, we shall give 
that of 

THE REJECTED BLESSING. 

One day, in 1721, Doctor Cotton Mather sat in his 
library reading a book that had been published by 



GRANDFATHER'S CUAIR. 97 

the Royal Society of London. But every few mo- 
ments he laid the book upon the table, and leaned 
back in Grandfather's chair with an aspect of deep 
care and disquietude. There were certain things 
which troubled him exceedingly, so that he could 
hardly fix his thoughts upon what he read. 

It was now a gloomy time in Boston. That terri- 
ble disease, the smallpox, had recently made its ap- 
pearance in the town. Ever since the first settlement 
of the country this awful pestilence had come at in- 
tervals, and Qwept away multitudes of the inhabi- 
tants. Whenever it commenced its ravages, nothing 
seemed to stay its progress until there were no more 
victims for it to seize upon. Oftentimes hundreds of 
people at once lay groaning with its agony ; and when 
it departed, its deep footsteps were always to be 
traced in many graves. 

The people never felt secure from this calamity. 
Sometimes, perhaps, it was brought into the country 
by a poor sailor, who had caught the infection in for- 
eign parts, and came hither to die and to be the cause 
of many deaths. Sometimes, no doubt, it followed 
in the train of the pompous governors when they 
came over from England. Sometimes the disease lay 
hidden in the cargoes of ships, among silks, and bro- 
cades, and other costly merchandise which was im- 
ported for the rich people to w^ear. And sometimes 
it started up seemingly of its own accord, and nobody 
could tell whence it came. The physician, being 
called to attend the sick person, would look at him, 
and say : — " It is the smallpox ! let the patient be 
carried to the hospital." 

And now this dreadful sickness had shown itself 
7 



98 GBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

again in Boston. Cotton Mather was greatly afflicted 
for the sake of the whole province. He had chil- 
dren, too, who were exposed to the danger. At that 
very moment lie heard the voice of his youngest 
son, for whom his heart was moved with apprehen- 
sion. 

"Alas! I fear for that poor child," said Cotton 
Mather to himself. " What shall I do for my son 
Samuel ? " 

Again he attempted to drive away these thoughts 
by taking up the book which he had been reading. 
And now, all of a sudden, his attention became fixed. 
The book contained a printed letter that an Italian 
physician had M-ritten upon the very subject about 
which Cotton Mather was so anxiously meditating. 
He ran his eye eagerly over the pages ; and, behold ! 
a method was disclosed to him by which the smallpox 
might be robbed of its worst terrors. Such a method 
was known in Greece. The physicians of Turkey, 
too, those long-bearded Eastern sages, had been ac- 
quainted with it for many years. The negroes of 
Africa, ignorant as they were, had likewise practised 
it, and thus had shown themselves wiser than the 
white men. 

" Of a truth," ejaculated Cotton Mather, clasping 
his hands and looking up to heaven, " it was a merci- 
ful Providence that brought this book under mine 
eye ! I will procure a consultation of physicians, and 
see whether this wondrous inoculation may not stay 
the progress of the destroyer." 

So he arose from Grandfather's chair and went out 
of the library. Near the door he met his son Sam- 
uel, who seemed downcast and out of spirits. The 



ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 99 

boy had heard, probably, that some of his playmates 
were taken ill with the smallpox. But, as his father 
looked cheerfully at him, Samuel took courage, trust- 
ing that either the wisdom of so learned a minister 
would find some remedy for the danger, or else 
that his prayers would secure protection from on 
high. 

Meanwhile Cotton Mather took his staff and three- 
cornered hat and walked about the streets, calling at 
the houses of all the physicians in Boston, They 
were a very wise fraternity ; and their huge wigs, 
and black dresses, and solenm visages made their wis- 
dom appear even profounder than it was. One after 
another he acquainted them with the discovery which 
he had hit upon. 

But the grave and sagacious personages would 
scarcely listen to him. The oldest doctor in town 
contented himself with remarking that no such 
thing as inoculation was mentioned by Galen or Hip- 
poci'ates ; and it was impossible that modern physi- 
cians should be wiser than those old savages. A sec- 
ond held up his hands in dumb astonishment and 
horror at the madness of what Cotton Mather pro- 
posed to do. A third told him, in pretty plain terms, 
that he knew not what he was talking about. A 
fourth requested, in the name of the whole medical 
fraternity, that Cotton Mather would confine his at- 
tention to people's souls, and leave the physicians to 
take care of their bodies. 

In short, there was but a single doctor among them 
all who would grant the poor minister so much as a 
patient hearing. This was Doctor Zabdiel Boylston. 
He looked into the matter like a man of sense, and 



100 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

finding, beyond a doubt, that inoculation had rescued 
many from death, he resolved to try the experiment 
in his own family. 

And so he did. But when the other physicians 
heard of it they arose in great fury and began a war 
of words, written, printed, and spoken, against Cot- 
ton Mather and Doctor Boylston. To hear them talk, 
you would have supposed that these two harmless 
and benevolent men had plotted the ruin of the 
country. 

The people, also, took the alarm. Many, M'ho 
thought themselves more pious than their neighboi-s, 
contended that, if Providence had ordained them to 
die of the smallpox, it was sinful to aim at prevent- 
ing it. The strangest reports M-ere in circulation. 
Some said that Doctor Boylston had contrived a 
method for conveying the gout, rheumatism, sick- 
headache, asthma, and all other diseases from one 
person to another, and diffusing them through the 
whole community. Others flatly affirmed that the 
Evil One had got possession of Cotton Mather, and 
was at the bottom of the whole business. 

You must observe, children, that Cotton Mather's 
fellow citizens were generally inclined to doubt the 
wisdom of any measure which he might propose to 
them. They recollected how he had led them astray 
in the old witchcraft delusion ; and now, if he thought 
and acted ever so wisely, it was difficult for him to 
get the credit of it. 

The people's wrath grew so hot at his attempt to 
guard them from the smallpox that he could not walk 
the streets in peace. Whenever the venerable form 
of the old minister, meagre and haggard with fasts 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 101 

and vigils, was seen approacliing, liisses Avere lieard, 
and shouts of dei-ision, and scornful and bitter laugh- 
ter. The women snatched away their children from 
his path, lest he should do them a mischief. Still, 
however, bending his head meekly, and perhaps 
stretching out his hands to bless those who reviled 
him, he pursued his way. But the tears came into 
his eyes to think how blindly the people rejected the 
means of safety that were offered them. 

Indeed, there were melancholy sights enough in the 
streets of Boston to draw forth the tears of a compas- 
sionate man. Over the door of almost every dwelling 
a red flag was fluttering in the air. This was the sig- 
nal that the smallpox had entered the house and at- 
tacked some member of the family ; or perhaps the 
whole family, old and young, were struggling at once 
with the pestilence. Friends and relatives, when they 
met one another in the streets, would hurry onward 
without a grasp of the hand or scarcely a word of 
greeting, lest they should catch or communicate the 
contagion ; and often a coffin was borne hastily 
along. 

" Alas, alas ! " said Cotton Mather to himself, 
" what shall be done for this poor, misguided people ? 
Oh that Providence would open their eyes, and enable 
them to discern good from evil ! " 

So furious, however, were the people, that they 
threatened vengeance against any person who should 
dare to practise inoculation, though it were only in his 
own family. This was a hard case for Cotton Mather, 
who saw no other way to rescue his poor child Samuel 
from the disease. But he resolved to save him, even 
if his house should be burned over his head. 



102 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" I will not be turned aside," said lie. " My towns- 
men shall see that I have faith in this thing, when I 
make the experiment on my beloved son, whose life 
is dearer to me than my own. And when I have 
saved Samuel, peradventure they will be persuaded to 
save themselves." 

Accordingly Samuel was inoculated ; and so was 
Mr. Walter, a son-in-law of Cotton Mather. Doctor 
Boylston, likewise, inoculated many persons ; and 
while hundreds died who had caught the contagion 
from the garments of the sick, almost all were pre- 
served who followed the wise physician's advice. 

But the people were not yet convinced of their 
mistake. One night a destructive little instrument, 
called a hand-grenade, was thrown into Cotton 
Mather's window, and rolled under Grandfather's 
chair. It was supposed to be filled with gunpowder, 
the explosion of which would have blown the poor 
minister to atoms. But the best informed historians 
are of opinion that the grenade contained only 
brimstone and assafoetida, and was meant to plague 
Cotton Mather with a very evil perfume. 

This is no strange thing in human experience. Men 
who attempt to do the world more good than the world 
is able entirely to comprehend are almost invariably 
held in bad odour. But yet, if the wise and good man 
can wait awhile, either the present generation or pos- 
terity will do him justice. So it proved in the case 
which we have been speaking of. In after years, when 
inoculation was universally practised, and thousands 
were saved from death by it, the people remembered 
old Cotton Mather, then sleeping in his grave. They 
acknowledged that the very thing for which they had 



GRAND FATHER' 8 CHAIR. 103 

60 reviled and persecuted him was the best and wisest 
thing he ever did. 



" Grandfather, this is not an agreeable story," ob- 
served Clara. 

" No, Clara," replied Grandfather. " But it is right 
that you should know wliat a dark shadow this disease 
threw over the times of our forefathers. And now, if 
you wish to learn more about Cotton Mather, you 
must read his biography, written by Mr. Peabody, of 
Springfield. You will find it very entertaining and 
instructive ; but perhaps the writer is somewhat too 
harsh in his judgment of this singular man. He es- 
timates him fairly, indeed, and understands him well ; 
but he unriddles his character rather by acuteness than 
by sympathy. ISTow, his life should have been written 
by one who, knowing all his faults, would nevertheless 
love him." 

So Grandfather made an end of Cotton Mather, tell- 
ing his auditors that he died in 1728, at the age of 
sixty-five, and bequeathed the chair to Elislia Cooke. 
This gentleman was a famous advocate of the people's 
rights. 

The same year William Burnet, a son of the cele- 
brated Bishop Burnet, arrived in Boston \vith the com- 
mission of governor. He was the first that had been 
appointed since the departure of Colonel Sliute. Gov- 
ernor Burnet took up his residence with Mr. Cooke 
while the Province House was undergoing repairs. 
During this period he was always complimented with 
a seat in Grandfather's chair ; and so comfortable did 
he find it, that, on removing to the Province House, 



104 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

he could not bear to leave it beliind him. Mr. Cooke, 
therefore, requested his acceptance of it. 

" I should think," said Laurence, " that the people 
would have petitioned the king always to appoint a 
native-born JSTew-Englander to govern them." 

" Undoubtedly it was a grievance," answered Grand- 
father, " to see men placed in this station who perhaps 
had neither talents nor virtues to fit them for it, and 
who certainly could have no natural affection for the 
country. Tlie king generally bestowed the governor- 
ships of the American colonies upon needy noblemen, 
or hangers-on at court, or disbanded officers. The peo- 
ple knew that such persons would be very likely to 
make the good of the country subservient to the wishes 
of the king. The Legislature, therefore, endeavored 
to keep as much power as possible in their own hands, 
by refusing to settle a fixed salary upon the governors. 
It was thought better to pay them according to their 
deserts." 

"Did Governor Burnet work well for his money ? " 
asked Charley. 

Grandfather could not avoid smiling at the simplicity 
of Charley's question. ISTevertheless, it put the matter 
in a very plain point of view. 

He then described the character of Governor Bur- 
net, representing him as a good scholar, possessed of 
much ability, and likeMdse of unspotted integrity. His 
story affords a striking example how unfortunate it is 
for a man, who is placed as ruler over a country, to be 
compelled to aim at anything but the good of the 
people. Governor Burnet was so chained down by his 
instructions from the king that he could not act as he 
might otherwise have wished. Consequently, his whole 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 105 

term of office was wasted in quarrels with the legis- 
lature. 

" I am afraid, children," said Grandfather, " that 
Governor Burnet found but little rest or comfort in 
our old chair. Here he used to sit, dressed in a coat 
which was made of rough, shaggy cloth outside, but 
of smooth velvet within. It was said that his own 
character resembled that coat ; for his outward man- 
ner was rough, but his inward disposition soft and 
kind. It is a pity that such a man could not have 
been kept free from trouble. But so harassing were 
his disputes with the representatives of the people that 
he fell into a fever, of which he died in 1729. The 
legislature had refused him a salary while alive ; but 
they appropriated money enough to give him a splendid 
and pompous funeral. 

And now Grandfather perceived that little Alice 
had fallen fast asleep, with her head upon his foot- 
stool. Indeed, as Clara observed, she had been sleeping 
from the time of Sir Ilovenden Walker's expedition 
against Quebec until the death of Governor Burnet, 
— a period of about eighteen years. And yet, after so 
long a nap, sweet little Alice was a golden-haired 
child of scarcely five years old. 

" It puts me in mind," said Laurence, " of the story 
of the enchanted princess, who slept many a hundred 
years, and awoke as young and beautiful as ever." 



CHAPTER YI. 

A FEW evenings afterwards, cousin Clara happened 
to inquire of Grandfather whether the old chair had 
never been present at a ball. At the same time little 
Alice brought forward a doll, with whom she had been 
holding a long conversation. 

" See, Grandfather ! " cried she. " Did such a 
pretty lady as this ever sit in your great chair ? " 

These questions led Grandfather to talk about the 
fashions and manners which now began to be inti-o- 
duced from England into the provinces. The sim- 
plicity of the good old Puritan times was fast disap- 
pearing. This was partly owing to the increasing 
number and wealth of the inhabitants, and to the ad- 
ditions which they continually received by the arrival 
and settlement of people from beyond the sea. 

Another cause of a pompous and artificial mode of 
life, among those who could afford it, was, that the 
example was set by the royal governors. Under the 
old charter, the governors were the representatives of 
the people, and therefore their way of living had prob- 
ably been marked by a popular simplicity. But now, 
as they represented the person of the king, they 
thought it necessary to preserve the dignity of their 
station by the practice of high and gorgeous cere- 
monials. And, besides, the profitable ofiices under 
the government were filled by men who had lived in 
London, and had there contracted fashionable and 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 107 

luxurious habits of living which they would not now 
lay aside. The wealthy people of the province imi- 
tated them ; and thus began a general change in social 
life. 

" So, my dear Clara," said Grandfather, " after our 
chair had entered the Province House, it must often 
have been present at balls and festivals ; though I 
cannot give you a description of any particular one. 
But I doubt not that they were very magnificent ; and 
slaves in gorgeous liveries waited on the guests, and 
offered them wine in goblets of massive silver," 

"Were there slaves in those days!" exclaimed Clara. 

" Yes, black slaves and white," replied Grandfather. 
" Our ancestors not only brought negroes from Africa, 
but Indians from South America, and white people 
from Ireland. These last were sold, not for life, but 
for a certain number of years, in order to pay the ex- 
penses of their voyage across the Atlantic. ISTothing 
was more common than to see a lot of likely Irish 
girls advertised for sale in the newspapers. As for 
the little negro babies, they were offered to be given 
away like young kittens." 

" Perhaps Alice would have liked one to play with, 
instead of her doll," said Charley, laughing. 

But little Alice clasped the waxen doll closer to her 
bosom. 

" Now, as for this pretty doll, my little Alice," said 
Grandfather, " I wish you could have seen what splen- 
did dresses the ladies wore in those times. They had 
silks, and satins, and damasks, and brocades, and high 
head-dresses, and all sorts of fine things. And they 
used to wear hooped-petticoats of such enormous size 
that it was quite a journey to walk round them." 



108 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" And how did the gentlemen dress ? " asked Char- 
ley. 

"With full as much magnificence as the ladies," 
answered Grandfather. " For their holiday snits 
they had coats of figured velvet, crimson, green, blue, 
and all other gay colors, embroidered with gold or 
silver lace. Their waistcoats, which were five times as 
large as modern ones, were very splendid. Sometimes 
the whole waistcoat, which came down almost to the 
knees, Vv'as made of gold brocade." 

" Why, the wearer must have shone like a golden 
image ! " said Clara. 

" And then," continued Grandfather, " they wore 
various sorts of periwigs, such as the Tie, the Spencer, 
the Brigadier, the Major, the Albemarle, the Ramil- 
lies, the Feather-top, and the Full bottom ! Their 
three cornered hats were laced with gold or silver. 
They had shining buckles at the knees of their small- 
clothes, and buckles likewise in their shoes. They 
wore swords with beautiful hilts, either of silver, or 
sometimes of polished steel, inlaid with gold." 

" Oh, I should like to wear a sword ! " cried Char- 
ley. 

"And an embroidered crimson velvet coat," said 
Clara, laughing, " and a gold brocade waistcoat down 
to your knees ! " 

"And knee-buckles and shoe-buckles," said Lau- 
rence, laughing also. 

" And a periwig," added little Alice, soberly, not 
knowing what was the article of dress which she rec- 
ommended to our friend Charley. 

Grandfather smiled at the idea of Charley's sturdy 
little figure in such a grotesque caparison. He then 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 109 

went on with the history of the chair, and told the 
children that, in 1730, King George the Second ap- 
pointed Jonathan Belcher to be governor of Massa- 
chusetts in place of the deceased Governor Burnet. 
Mr. Belcher was a native of the province, but had 
spent much of his life in Europe. 

The new governor found Grandfather's chair in the 
Province House. He was struck with its noble and 
stately aspect, but was of opinion that age and hard 
services had made it scarcely so fit for courtly com- 
pany as when it stood in the Earl of Lincoln's hall. 
Wherefore, as Governor Belcher was fond of splen- 
dor, he employed a skilful artist to beautify the chair. 
This was done by polishing and varnishing it, and by 
gilding the carved work of the elbows, and likewise 
the oaken flowers of the back. The lion's head now 
shone like a veritable lump of gold. Finally Governor 
Belcher gave the chair a cushion of blue damask, with 
a rich golden fringe. 

" Our good old chair being thus glorified," pro- 
ceeded Grandfather, " it glittered with a great deal 
more splendor than it had exhibited just a century 
before, when the Lady Arbella brought it over from 
England. Most people mistook it for a chair of the 
latest London fashion. And this may serve for an 
example, that there is almost always an old and time- 
worn substance under all the glittering show of new 
invention." 

" Grandfather, I cannot see any of the gilding," re- 
marked Charley, who had been examining the chair 
very minutely. 

" You will not wonder that it has been rubbed off," 
replied Grandfather, when you hear all the adven- 



110 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

tiires that have since befallen the chair. Gilded it 
was ; and the handsomest room in the Province House 
was adorned by it." 

There was not much to interest the children in what 
happened during the years that Governor Belcher re- 
mained in the chair. At first, like Colonel Shute and 
Governor Burnet, he was engaged in disputing with 
the legislature about his salary. But, as he found it 
impossible to get a fixed sum, he finally obtained the 
king's leave to accept whatever the legislature chose 
to giv^e him. And thus the people triumphed, after 
this long contest for the privilege of expending their 
own money as they saw fit. 

The remainder of Governor Belcher's term of office 
was principally taken up in endeavoring to settle the 
currency. Honest John Hull's pine-tree shillings had 
long ago been worn out, or lost, or melted down 
again ; and their place was supplied by bills of paper 
or parchment, which were nominally valued at three- 
pence and upwards. The value of these bills kept 
continually sinking, because the real hard money could 
not be obtained for them. They were a great deal 
worse than the old Indian currency of clam-shells. 
These disorders of the circulating medium were a 
source of endless plague and perplexity to the rulers 
and legislators, not only in Governor Belcher's days, 
but for many years before and afterwards. 

Finally the people suspected that Governor Belcher 
was secretly endeavoring to establish the Episcopal 
mode of worship in the provinces. There was enough 
of the old Puritan spirit remaining to cause most of 
the true sons of New England to look with horror 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. Ill 

upon such an attempt. Great exertions were made 
to induce the king to remove the governor. Accord- 
ingly, in 1740, he was compelled to resign his office, 
and Grandfather's chair into the bargain, to Mr. Shir- 
ley. 



CHAPTER YII. 

" "William Shirley," said Grandfather, " had 
come from England a few years before, and begun to 
practise law in Boston. You will think, perhaps, that, 
as he had been a lawj-er, the new governor used to sit 
in our great chair reading heavy law-books from morn- 
ing till night. On the contrary, he was as stirring 
and active a governor as Massachusetts ever had. 
Even Sir William Phips hardly equalled him. The 
first year or two of his administration was spent in 
trying to regulate the currency. But in 1744, after a 
peace of more than thirty years, war broke out between 
France and England." 

" And I suppose," said Charley, " the governor went 
to take Canada." 

" Not exactly, Charley," said Grandfather ; " though 
you have made a pretty shrewd conjecture. He 
planned, in 1745, an expedition against Louisburg. 
This was a fortified city, on the island of Cape Bret- 
on, near I^ova Scotia. Its walls were of immense 
height and strength, and were defended by hundreds 
of heavy cannon. It was the strongest fortress which 
the French possessed in America ; and if the king of 
France had guessed Governor Shirley's intentions, he 
would have sent all the ships he could muster to pro- 
tect it." 

As the siege of Louisburg was one of the most re- 
markable events that ever the inhabitants of 'New 



GRANDFATUER'S CHAIR. 113 

England were engaged in, Grandfatlier endeavored to 
give his auditors a lively idea of the spirit with which 
thej set about it. We shall call his description 

THE PROVINCIAL MUSTER. 

The expedition against Louisburg first began to be 
thought of in the month of January. From that 
time the governor's chair was continually surrounded 
by counsellors, representatives, clergymen, captains, 
pilots, and all manner of people, with whom he con- 
sulted about this wonderful project. 

First of all, it was necessary to provide men and 
arms. The legislature immediately sent out a huge 
quantity of paper money, with which, as if by magic 
spell, the governor hoped to get possession of all the 
old cannon, powder and balls, rusty swords and mus- 
kets, and everything else that would be serviceable in 
killing Frenchmen. Drums were beaten in all the 
villages of Massachusetts to enlist soldiers for the 
service. Messages were sent to the other governors 
of Kew England, and to IsTew York and Pennsylvania, 
entreating them to unite in this crusade against the 
French. All these provinces agreed to give what as- 
sistance they could. 

But there was one very important thing to be de- 
cided. Who shall be the general of this great army ? 
Peace had continued such an unusual length of time, 
that there was now less military experience among the 
colonists than at any former period. The old Pur- 
itans had always kept theu* weapons bright, and were 
never destitute of warlike captains who were skilful 
in assault or defence. But the swords of their de- 



114 ORANDFATHER\S CHAIR. 

scendants had grown rusty bj disuse. There was 
nobody hi New England that knew anythmg about 
sieges or any other regular lighting. The only per- 
sons at all acquainted with warlike business were a few 
elderly men, who had hunted Indians through the un- 
derbrush of the forest in old Governor Dunnner's war. 

In this dilemma Governor Shirley fixed npon a 
wealthy merchant, named William Pepperell, who 
was pretty well known and liked among the jjeople. 
As to military skill, he had no more of it than his 
neighbors. But, as the governor urged him very 
pressingly, Mr. Pepperell consented to shnt np his 
ledger, gird on a sword, and assume the title of general. 

Meantime, what a hnbbub was raised by this 
scheme ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! The rat- 
tle of drums, beaten out of all manner of time, was 
heard above every other sound. 

Nothing now was so valuable as arms, of whatever 
style and fashion they might be. The bellows blew, 
and the hammer clanged continually npon the anvil, 
while the blacksmiths were repairing the broken 
weapons of other wars. Doubtless some of the sol- 
diers lugged out those enormous' heavy muskets 
which nsed to be fired, with rests, in the time of the 
early Puritans. Great horse-pistols, too, were found, 
which w^ould go off with a bang like a cannon. Old 
cannon, with touchholes almost as big as their muz- 
zles, were looked npon as inestimable treasures. 
Pikes which, perhaps, had been handled by Miles 
Standish's soldiers, now made their appearance again. 
Many a young man ransacked the garret and brought 
forth his great-grandfather's sword, corroded with rust 
and stained with the blood of King Philip's "War. 



ORANDFATHER'8 CHAIR. 115 

Kever had there been such an arming as this, when 
a people, so long peaceful, rose to the war with the 
best weapons that they could lay their hands upon. 
And still the drums were heard — liub-a-dub-dub ! 
Rub-a-dub-dub ! — in all the towns and villages ; and 
louder and more numerous grew the trampling foot- 
steps of the recruits that marched behind. 

Rub-a-dub-dub ! And now the army began to 
gather into Boston. Tall, lanky, awkward fellows 
came in squads, and companies, and regiments, swag- 
gering along, dressed in their brown homespun 
clothes and blue yarn stockings. They stooped as if 
they still had hold of the plough-handles, and 
inarched without any time or tune. Hither they 
came, from the corn-fields, from the clearing in the 
forest, from the blacksmith's forge, from the carpen- 
ter's workshop, and from the shoemaker's seat. They 
were an army of rough faces and sturdy frames. A 
trained officer of Europe would have laughed at them 
till his sides had ached. But there w\as a spirit in 
their bosoms which is more essential to soldiership 
than to wear red coats and march in stately ranks to 
the sound of regular music. 

Still was heard the beat of the drum, — rub-a-dub- 
dub ! — And now a host of three or four thousand men 
had found their way to Boston. Little quiet was 
there then ! Forth scampered the school-boys, shout- 
ing behind the drums. The whole town, the whole 
land, — was on fire with war. 

After the arrival of tlie troops, they were probably 
reviewed upon the common. We may imagine Gov- 
ernor Shirley and General Peppereil riding slowly 
along the line, while the drummers beat strange old 



116 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

tunes, like psalm-tunes, and all the officers and sol- 
diers put on their most warlike looks. It would 
have been a terrible sight for the Frenchmen, could 
they but have witnessed it ! 

At length, on the twenty-fourth of March, 1745, 
the army gave a parting shout, and set sail from 
Boston in ten or twelve vessels which had been hired 
by the governor. A few days afterwards an English 
fleet, commanded by Commodore Peter Warren, sailed 
also for Louisburg to assist the provincial army. So 
now, after all this bustle of preparation, the town and 
province were left in stillness and repose. 

But stillness and repose, at such a time of anxious 
expectation, are hard to bear. The hearts of the old 
people and women sunk within them when they re- 
flected what perils they had sent their sons, and hus- 
bands, and brothers to encounter. The boys loitered 
heavily to school, missing the rub-a-dub-dub and the 
trampling march, in the rear of which they had so 
lately run and shouted. All the ministers prayed 
earnestl}^ in their pulpits for a blessing on the army 
of New England. In every family, when the good 
man lifted up his heart in domestic worship, the bur- 
den of his petition was for the safety of those dear 
ones who were flghting under the walls of Louisburg. 

Governor Shirley all this time was probably in an 
ecstasy of impatience. He could not sit still a mo- 
ment. He found no quiet, not even in Grandfather's 
chair ; but hurried to-and-fro, and up and down the 
staircase of the Province House. Now he mounted 
to the cupola and looked sea-ward, straining his eyes 
to discover if there were a sail upon the horizon. 
Now, he hastened down the stairs, and stood beneath 



GRAND FATHER'S CHAIR. 117 

the portal, on the red free-stone steps, to receive some 
mud-bespattered courier, from whom he hoped to 
hear tidings of the army. A few M^eeks after the de- 
parture of the troops. Commodore Warren sent a 
small vessel to Boston with two French prisoners. 
One of them was Monsieur Bouladrie, who had been 
commander of a battery outside of the walls of 
Louisburg. The other was the Marquis de la Maison 
Forte, captain of a French frigate which had been 
taken by Commodore Warren's fleet. These pris- 
oners assured Governor Shirley that the fortifications 
of Louisburg were far too strong ever to be stormed 
by the provincial army. 

Day after day and week after week went on. The 
people grew almost heart-sick with anxiety ; for the 
flower of the country was at peril in this adventurous 
expedition. It was now day -break on the morning of 
the third of July. 

But hark ! what sound is this ? The hurried clang 
of a bell ! There is the Old Xorth pealing suddenly 
out ! — there the Old South strikes in ! — now the peal 
comes from the church in Brattle Street ! — the bells 
of nine or ten steeples are all flinging their iron 
voices at once upon the morning breeze ! Is it joy, 
or alarm ? There goes the roar of a cannon too ! A 
royal salute is thundered forth. And now we hear 
the loud exulting shout of a multitude assembled in 
the street. Huzza ! huzza ! Louisburg has surren- 
dered ! Huzza ! 



" O Grandfatlier, how glad I should have been to 
live in those times ! " cried Charley. " And what re- 



118 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ward did the king give to General Pepperell and Gov- 
ernor Shirley ? " 

" He made Pepperell a baronet ; so that he was 
now to be called Sir William Pepperell," replied 
Grandfather. " lie likewise appointed both Pepper- 
ell and Shirley to be colonels in the royal army. 
These rewards, and higher ones, were well deserved ; 
for this w^as the greatest triumph that the English 
met in the whole course of that war. Genei'al Pep- 
perell became a man of great fame. I have seen a 
full length portrait of him, }-epresenting him in a 
splendid scarlet uniform, standing before the walls of 
Louisburg, while several bombs are falling through the 
air." 

" But did the country gain any real good by the 
conquest of Louisburg ? " asked Laurence. " Or was 
all the benefit reaped by Pepperell and Shirley ? " 

" The English Parliament," replied Grandfather, 
" agreed to pay the colonists for all the expenses of 
the siege. Accordingly, in 1749, two hundred and 
fifteen chests of Spanish dollars and one hundred 
casks of copper coin were brought from England to 
Boston. The whole amount was about a million of 
dollars. Twenty-seven carts and trucks carried this 
money from the wharf to the provincial treasury. 
Was not this a pretty liberal reward ? " 

" The mothers of the young men who were killed 
at the siege of Louisburo- would not have thouo-ht it 
SO," said Laurence. 

"No, Laurence," rejoined Grandfather ; "and every 
warlike achievement involves an amount of physical 
and moral evil, for which all the gold in the Spanish 
mines would not be the slightest recompense. But 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 119 

we are to consider that this siege was one of the oc- 
casions on which the colonists tested tlieir ability for 
war, and thns were prepared for the great contest of 
the Revohition. In tliat point of view, tlie valor of 
our forefathers was its own reward." 

Grandfather went on to say that the success of the 
expedition against Louisburg induced Shirley and 
Pepperell to form a scheme for conquering Canada. 
This plan, however, was not carried into execution. 

In the year 1746 great terror was excited by the 
arrival of a formidable French fleet upon the coast. 
It was commanded by the Duke d'Anville, and con- 
sisted of forty ships of war, besides vessels with sol- 
diers on board. With this force the French intended 
to re-take Louisburg, and afterwards to ravage the 
whole of Kew England. Many people were ready to 
give up the country for lost. 

But the hostile fleet met with so many disasters and 
losses by storm and shipwreck, that the Duke d'An- 
ville is said to have poisoned himself in despair. The 
officer next in command threw himself upon his sword 
and perished. Thus deprived of their commanders, 
the remainder of the ships returned to France. This 
was as great a deliverance for New England as that 
which Old England had experienced in the days of 
Queen Elizabeth, when the Spanish Armada was 
wrecked upon her coast. 

" In 1717," proceeded Grandfather, " Governor 
Shirley was driven from the Province House, not by 
a hostile fleet and army, but by a mob of the Boston 
people. They were so incensed at the conduct of the 
British Commodore Knowles, who had impressed 
some of their fellow-citizens, that several thousands 



120 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of them surrounded the council chamber and threw 
stones and brickbats into the M'indows. The gov- 
ernor attempted to pacify them ; but not succeeding, 
lie thought it necessary to leave the town and take 
refuge within tlie walls of Castle William. Quiet 
was not restored until Commodore Knowles had sent 
back the impressed men. This affair was a flash of 
spirit that might have warned the English not to 
venture upon any oppressive measures against their 
colonial brethren." 

Peace being declared between France and England 
in 1748, the governor had iiow an opportunity to sit 
at his ease in Grandfather's chair. Such repose, how- 
ever, appears not to have suited his disposition ; for, 
in the following year he went to England, and thence 
was dispatched to France on public business. Mean- 
while, as Shirley had not resigned his office, Lieu- 
tenant-Governor Phips acted as chief magistrate in 
his stead. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

In the early twilight of Thanksgiving Eve came 
Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, and little Alice 
hand in hand, and stood in a semi-circle round Grand- 
father's chair. They had been joyons throughout 
that day of festivity, mingling together in all kinds 
of play, so that the house had echoed with their airy 
mirth. 

Gj'andfather, too, had been happy though not 
mirthful. He felt that this was to be set down as 
one of the good Thanksgivings of his life. In truth, 
all his former Thanksgivings had borne their part in 
the present one ; for his years of infancy, and youth, 
and manhood, with their blessings and their griefs, 
had flitted before him while he sat silently in the 
great chair. Yanished scenes had been pictured in 
the air. The forms of departed friends had visited 
him. Yoices to be heard no more on earth had sent 
an echo from the infinite and the eternal. These 
shadows, if such they were, seemed almost as real to 
him as what was actually present, — as the merry 
shouts and laughter of the children, — as their figures, 
dancing like sunsliine before his eyes. 

He felt that the past was not taken from him. The 
happiness of former days was a possession forever. 
And there was something in the mingled sorrow of 
his lifetime that became akin to happiness, after be- 
ing long treasured in the depths of his heart. There 



122 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

it underwent a change, and grew more precious than 
pure gold. 

And now came the children, somewhat aweary with 
their wild play, and sought the quiet enjoyment of 
Grandfather's talk. The good old sire rubbed his 
eyes and smiled round upon them all. He was glad, 
as most aged people are, to find that he was yet of 
consequence, and could give pleasure to the world. 
After being so merry all day long, did these children 
desire to hear his sober talk ? Oh, then, old Grand- 
father had yet a place to fill among living men, — or 
at least among boys and girls ! 

" Begin quick, Grandfather," cried little Alice ; 
" for Pussy wants to hear you.*' 

And truly our yellow friend, the cat, lay upon the 
hearthrug, basking in the warmth of the fire, pricking 
up her ears, and turning her head from the children 
to Grandfather, and from Grandfather to the chil- 
dren, as if she felt herself very sympathetic with 
them all. A loud purr, like the singing of a tea-ket- 
tle or the hum of a spinning-wheel, testified that she 
was as comfortable and happy as a cat could be. For 
Puss had feasted ; and therefore, like Grandfather 
and the children, had kept a good Thanksgiving. 

" Does Pussy Avant to hear me ? " said Grandfather, 
smiling. " "Well, we must please Pussy, if we can." 

And so he took up the history of the chair from 
the epoch of the peace of 1748. By one of the pro- 
visions of the treaty, Louisburg, which the New Eng- 
landers had been at so much pains to take, was re- 
stored to the king of France. 

The French were afraid that, unless their colonies 
should be better defended than heretofore, another 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 123 

war might deprive tliem of the whole. Almost as 
Boon as peace was declared, therefore, they began to 
build strong fortifications in the interior of North 
America. It was strange to behold these warlike cas- 
tles on the' banks of solitary lakes and far in the 
midst of woods. The Indian, paddling his birch- 
canoe on Lake Champlain, looked up at the high ram- 
parts of Ticonderoga, stone piled on stone, bristling 
with cannon, and the white flag of France floating 
above. There were similar fortifications on Lake On- 
tario, and near the great Falls of Isiagara, and at the 
sources of the Ohio River. And all around these 
forts and castles lay the eternal forest, and the roll 
of the drum died away in those deep solitudes. 

The truth was, that the French intended to build 
forts all the waj'- from Canada to Louisiana. They 
would then have had a wall of military strength at 
the back of the English settlements so as completely 
to hem them in. The King of England considered 
the building of these forts as a sufficient cause of war, 
which was accordingly commenced in 1T5L 

"Governor Shirley," said Grandfather, "had re- 
turned to Boston in 1753. While in Paris he had 
married a second wife, a young French girl, and now 
brought her to the Provhice House. Bnt when war 
was breaking out it was impossible for such a bustling 
man to stay quietly at home, sitting in our old chair, 
with his wife and children round about him. He 
therefore obtained a command in the English forces." 

" And what did Sir William Pepperell do ? " asked 
Charley. 

" He stayed at home," said Grandfather, " and was 
general of the militia. The veteran regiments of the 



124 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Englisli army which were now sent across the Atlan- 
tic would have scorned to figlit nnder the orders of 
an old American merchant. And now began what 
aged people call the Old French War. It would be 
going too far astray from the history of our chair to 
tell you one half of the battles that were fought. 1 
cannot even allow myself to describe the bloody de- 
feat of General Braddock, near the sources of the 
Ohio River, in 1Y55. But I must not omit to men- 
tion that, when the English general was mortally 
wounded and his army routed, the remains of it 
were preserved by the skill and valor of Georgk 
Washington." 

At the mention of this illustrious name the children 
started as if a sudden sunlight had gleamed upon the 
history of their country, now that the great Deliverer 
had arisen above the horizon. 

Among all the events of the Old French War, 
Grandfather thought that there was none more inter- 
estins: than the removal of the inhabitants of Acadia. 
From the first settlement of this ancient province of 
the French, in 1604, until the present time, its people 
could scarcely ever know what kingdom held domin- 
ion over them. They were a peaceful race, taking 
no delight in warfare, and caring nothing for mili- 
tary renown. And yet, in every war, their region 
was infested with iron-hearted soldiers, both French 
and English, who fought one another for the privi- 
lege of ill treating these poor, harmless Acadians. 
Sometimes the treaty of peace made them subjects of 
one king, sometimes of another. 

At the peace of 1748 Acadia had been ceded to 
England. But the French still claimed a large por- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 125 

tion of it, and bnilt forts for its defence. In 1755 
these forts were taken, and the whole of Acadia was 
conquered by three thousand men from Massachusetts, 
under the command of Geuera] Winslow. The in- 
habitants were accused of supplying the French with 
provisions, and of doing other things that violated 
their neutrality. 

" These accusations were probably true," observed 
Grandfather; "for the Acadians w^ere descended 
from the French, and had the same friendly feel- 
ings towards them that the people of Massachusetts 
had for the English. But their punishment was 
severe. The English determined to tear these poor 
people from their native homes and scatter them 
abroad." 

The Acadians were about seven thousand in num- 
ber. A considerable part of them were made pris- 
oners, and transported to the English colonies. All 
their dwellings and churches were burned, their cat- 
tle were killed, and the whole country was laid waste, 
so that none of them might find shelter or food in 
their old homes after the departure of the English. 
One thousand of the prisoners were sent to Massachu- 
setts ; and Grandfather allowed his fancy to follow 
them thither, and tried to give his auditors an idea of 
their situation. 

"We shall call this passage the story of 

THE ACADIAN EXILES. 

A sad day it was for the poor Acadians when the 
armed soldiers drove them, at the point of the bayonet, 
down to the sea- shore. Yery sad were they, likewise, 



126 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

while tossing upon the ocean in the crowded transport 
vessels. Bnt methinks it must have been sadder still 
when they were landed on the Long Wharf in Boston, 
and left to themselves on a foreign strand. 

Then, probably, they huddled together and looked 
into one another's faces for the comfort which was not 
there. Hitherto they had been confined on board of 
separate vessels, so that they could not tell whether 
their relatives and friends were prisoners along with 
them. But now, at least, they could tell that many 
had been left behind or transported to other regions. 

JSTow a desolate wife might be heard calling for her 
husband. He, alas ! had gone, she knew not whither ; 
or perhaps had fled into the woods of Acadia, and had 
now returned to weep over the ashes of their dwelling. 

An aged widow was crjang out in a querulous, lam- 
entable tone for her son, whose affectionate toil had 
supported her for many a year. He was not in the 
crowd of exiles ; and what could this aged widow do 
but sink down and die ? Young men and maidens, 
whose hearts had been torn asunder by separation, had 
hoped, during the voyage, to meet their beloved ones 
at its close. Now they began to feel that they were 
separated forever. And perhaps a lonesome little girl, 
a golden-haired child of five years old, the very picture 
of our little Alice, was weeping and wailing for her 
mothei', and found not a soul to give her a kind word. 

Oh, how many broken bonds of affection were here ! 
Country lost ! — friends lost ! — their rural wealth of 
cottage, field, and herds all lost together ! Every tie 
between these poor exiles and the world seemed to be 
cut oif at once. They must have regretted that they 
had not died before their exile ; for even the English 



ORANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 127 

would not have been so pitiless as to deny them graves 
in their native soil. The dead were happv ; for they 
were not exiles ! 

While they thus stood upon the wharf, the curios- 
ity and inquisitiveness of the New England people 
would naturally lead them into the midst of the poor 
Acadians. Prying busy-bodies thrust their heads into 
the circle wherever two or three of the exiles were con- 
versing together. How puzzled did they look at the 
outlandish sound of the French tongue ! There were 
seen the New England women, too. They had just 
come out of their warm, safe homes, where everything 
was regular and comfortable, and where their hus- 
bands and children would be with them at night-fall. 
Surely they could pity the wretched wives and mothers 
of Acadia ! Or did the sign of the cross which the 
Acadians continnally made upon their breasts, and 
which was abhorred by the descendants of the Puri- 
tans, — did that sign exclude all pity ? 

Among the spectators, too, was the noisy brood of 
Boston school-boys, who came running, with laughter 
and shouts, to gaze at this crowd of oddly dressed for- 
eigners. At first they danced and capei-ed around 
them, full of merriment and mischief. But the de- 
spair of the Acadians soon had its effect upon these 
thoughtless lads, and melted them into tearful sym- 
pathy. 

At a little distance from the throng might be seen 
the wealthy and pompous merchants whose warehouses 
stood on Long Wharf. It was difficult to touch these 
rich men's hearts ; for they had all the comforts of 
the world at their command ; and when they walked 
abroad their feelings were seldom moved, except by 



128 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

the rougliness of the pavement irritating their gouty 
toes. Leaning upon their gold-headed canes, they 
watched the scene with an aspect of composure. But 
let us hope they distributed some of their superfluous 
coin among these hapless exiles to purchase food and 
a night's lodging. 

After standing a long time at the end of the wharf, 
gazing seaward, as if to catch a glimpse of their lost 
Acadia, the strangers began to stray into the town. 

They went, we will suppose, in parties and groups, 
here a hundred, there a score, there ten, there three 
or four, who possessed some bond of unity among 
themselves. Here and there, was one, who, utterly 
desolate, stole away by himself, seeking no compan- 
ionship. 

Whither did they go ? I imagine them wandering 
about the streets, telling the townspeople, in outland- 
ish, unintelligible words, that no earthly affliction ever 
equalled what had befallen them. Man's brotherhood 
with man was sufficient to make the ]^ew-Englanders 
understand this language. The strangers wanted food. 
Some of them sought hospitalit}'^ at the doors of the 
stately mansions which then stood in the vicinity of 
Hanover Street and the Xorth Square. Others were 
applicants at the humble wooden tenements, where 
dwelt the petty shopkeepers and mechanics. Pray 
Heaven that no family in Boston turned one of these 
poor exiles from their door ! It would be a reproach 
upon Kew England, — a crime worthy of heavy retri- 
bution, — if the aged women and children, or even 
the strong men, were allowed to feel the pinch of hun- 
ger. 

Perhaps some of the Acadians, in their aimless wan- 



ORANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 129 

derings through the town, found themselves near a 
large brick edifice, which was fenced in from the street 
by an iron railing, wrought with fantastic figures. 
They saw a flight of red free-stone steps ascending to 
a portal, above which was a balcony and balustrade. 
Misery and desolation give men the right of free pas- 
sage everywhere. Let us suppose, then, that they 
mounted the flight of steps and passed into the Prov- 
ince House. Making their way into one of the apart- 
ments, they beheld a richly clad gentleman, seated in 
a stately chair, with gilding upon the carved work of 
its back, and a gilded lion's head at the summit. 
This was Governor Shirley, meditating upon matters 
of war and state, in Grandfather's chair ! 

If such an incident did happen, Shirley, reflecting 
what a ruin of peaceful and humble hopes had been 
wrought by the cold policy of the statesman and the 
iron hand of the warrior, might have drawn a deep 
moral from it. It should have taught him that the 
poor man's hearth is sacred, and that armies and 
nations have no right to violate it. It should have 
made him feel that England's triumph and increased 
dominion could not compensate to mankind nor atone 
to Heaven for the ashes of a single Acadian cottage. 
But it is not thus that statesmen and warriors mor- 
alize. 



" Grandfather," cried Laurence, with emotion trem- 
bling in his voice, " did iron-hearted War itself ever 
do so hard and cruel a thing as this before ? " 

" You have read in history, Laurence, of whole 
regions wantonly laid waste," said Grandfather. " In 
9 



130 ORANDFATEER'S CHAIR. 

the removal of the Acadians, the troops were guilty of 
no cruelty or outrage, except what was inseparable 
from the measure." 

Little Alice, whose eyes had all along been brim- 
ming full of tears, now burst forth a-sobbing; for 
Grandfather had touched her sympathies more than 
he intended. 

" To think of a whole people homeless in the 
world ! " said Clara, with moistened eyes. " There 
never was anything so sad ! " 

" It was their own fault ! " cried Charley, energeti- 
cally. " Why did not they fight for the country 
where they were born. Then, if the worst had hap- 
pened to them, they could only have been killed and 
buried there. They would not have been exiles 
then." 

" Certainly their lot was as hard as death," said 
Grandfather. " All that could be done for them in 
the English provinces was, to send them to the alms- 
houses, or bind them out to taskmasters. And this 
was the fate of persons who had possessed a comfort- 
able property in their native country. Some of them 
found means to embark for France ; but though it 
was the land of their forefathers, it must have been 
a foreign land to them. Those who remained behind 
always cherished a belief that the king of France 
would never make peace with England till his poor 
Acadians were restored to their country and their 
homes." 

" And did he ? " inquired Clara. 

"Alas, my dear Clara," said Grandfather," it is 
improbable that the slightest whisper of the woes of 
Acadia ever reached the ears of Louis the Fifteenth. 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 131 

The exiles grew old in the British provinces, and 
never saw Acadia again. Their descendants remain 
among iis to this day. They have forgotten the lan- 
guage of their ancestors, and pi'obably retain no tra- 
dition of their misfortunes. But, methinks, if I were 
an American poet, I would choose Acadia for the 
subject of my song." 

And now, having thrown a gentle gloom around the 
Thanksgiving fireside by a story that made the chil- 
dren feel the blessing of a secure and peaceful hearth. 
Grandfather put off the other events of the Old 
French War till the next evening. 



CHAPTER IX. 

AccoEDiNGLT in tlie twilight of the succeeding eve, 
when the red beams of the fire were dancing upon tlie 
wall, the children besought Grandfather to tell them 
what had next happened to the old chair. 

" Our chair," said Grandfather, " stood all this 
time in the Province House. But Governor Shirley 
had seldom an opportunity to repose within its arms. 
He was leading his troops through the forest, or sail- 
ing in a flat-boat on Lake Ontario, or sleeping in his 
tent, while the awful cataract of Niagara sent its 
roar through his dreams. At one period, in the 
early part of the war, Shirley had the chief command 
of all the king's forces in America." 

" Did his young wife go with him to the war ? " 
asked Clara. 

"I rather imagine," replied Grandfather, "that she 
remained in Boston. This lady, I suppose, had our 
chair all to herself, and used to sit in it during those 
brief intervals when a young Frenchwoman can be 
quiet enough to sit in a chair. The people of Massa- 
chusetts were never fond of Governor Shirley's young 
French wife. They had a suspicion that she betrayed 
the military plans of the English to the generals of 
the French armies." 

" And was it true ? " inquired Clara. 

"Probably not," said Grandfather. "But the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 133 

mere suspicion did Shirlej a great deal of harm. 
Partly, perhaps, for this reason, but much more on 
account of his inefficiency as a general, he was de- 
prived of his command in 1756, and recalled to Eng- 
land. He never afterwards made any figure in public 
life." 

As Grandfather's chair had no locomotive proper- 
ties, and did not even run on castors, it cannot be sup- 
posed to have marched in person to the Old French 
"War. But Grandfather delayed its momentous his- 
tory while he touched briefly upon some of the bloody 
battles, sieges, and onslaughts, the tidings of which 
kept continually coming to the ears of the old in- 
habitants of Boston. The woods of the north were 
populous with fighting men. All the Indian tribes 
uplifted their tomahawks, and took part either with 
the French or English. The rattle of musketry and 
roar of cannon disturbed the ancient quiet of the for- 
est, and actually drove the bears and other wild beasts 
to the more cultivated portion of the country in the 
vicinity of the sea-ports. The children felt as if they 
were transported back to those forgotten times, and 
that the couriers from the army, with the news of a 
battle lost or won, might even now be heard gallop- 
ing through the streets. Grandfather told them about 
tlie battle of Lake George in 1755, when the gallant 
Colonel "Williams, a Massachusetts officer, was slain, 
with many of his countrymen. But General Johnson 
and General Lyman, with their army, drove back the 
enemy and mortally wounded the French leader, who 
was called tlie Baron Dieskau. A gold watch, pil- 
fered from the poor baron, is still in existence, and 
still marks each moment of time without complaining 



134 QRANDFATHEB'S GHAIB. 

of weariness, although its hands have been in motion 
ever since the hour of battle. 

In the first years of the war there were many dis- 
asters on the English side. Among these was the loss 
of Fort Oswego in 1756, and of Fort William Hemy 
in the following year. But the greatest misfortune 
that befell the English during the whole war was the 
repulse of General Abercrorabie, with his army, from 
the ramparts of Ticonderoga in 1758. He attempted 
to storm the M-alls ; but a terrible conflict ensued, in 
which more than two thousand Englishmen and New 
Englanders were killed or wounded. The slain sol- 
diers now lie buried around that ancient fortress. 
When the plough passes over the soil, it turns up here 
and there a mouldering bone. 

Up to this period, none of the English generals had 
shown any military talent. Shirley, the Earl of Lou- 
don, and General Abercrombie had each held the 
chief command at dilferent times ; but not one of 
them had won a single important triumph for the 
British arms. This ill success was not owing to the 
want of means ; for, in 1758, General Abercrombie 
had fifty thousand soldiers under his command. But 
the French general, the famous Marquis de Mont- 
calm, possessed a great genius for war, and had some- 
thing within him that taught him how battles were 
to be won. 

At length, in 1759, Sir Jeffrey Amherst was ap- 
pointed commander-in-chief of all the British forces 
in America. He was a man of ability and a skilful 
soldier. A plan was now formed for accomplishing 
that object which had so long been the darling wish 
of the New Enfflauders, and which their fathers had 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 135 

60 many times attempted. This was the conquest of 
Canada. 

Three separate armies were to enter Canada from 
different quarters. One of the three, commanded by 
General Prideaux, was to embark on Lake Ontario 
and proceed to Montreal. The second, at the head of 
wliich was Sir Jeffrey Amherst himself, was destined 
to reach the river St. Lawrence, by the way of Lake 
Champlain, and then go down the river to meet the 
third army. This last, led by General Wolfe, was to 
enter the St. Lawrence from the sea and ascend the 
river to Quebec. It is to Wolfe and his army that 
England owes one of the most splendid triumphs 
ever written in her history. 

Grandfather described the siege of Quebec, and 
told how Wolfe led his soldiers up a rugged and lofty 
precipice, that rose from the shore of the river to the 
plain on which the city stood. This bold adventure 
was achieved in the darkness of night. At day-break 
tidings were carried to the Marquis de Montcalm that 
the English army was waiting to give him battle on 
the plains of Abraham. This brave French general 
ordered his drums to strike up, and immediately 
marched to encounter Wolfe. 

He marched to his own death. The battle was the 
most fierce and terrible that had ever been fought in 
America. General Wolfe was at the head of his sol- 
diers, and, while encouraging them onward, received 
a mortal wound. He reclined against a stone in the 
agonies of death ; but it seemed as if his spirit could 
not pass away while the fight yet raged so doubtfully. 
Suddenly a shout came pealing across the battle-field. 
" They flee ! they flee ! " — and, for a moment, Wolfe 



136 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

lifted his languid head. " Who flee ? " he inquired. 
" The French," replied an ofiicer. " Then I die satis- 
fied ! " said Wolfe, and expired in the arms of victory. 

" If ever a warrior's death were glorions, Wolfe's 
was so ! " said Grandfather ; and his eye kindled, 
though he was a man of peaceful thoughts and gentle 
spirit. " His life-blood streamed to baptize the soil 
which he had added to the dominion of Britain. His 
dying breath was mingled with his army's shout of 
victory." 

" Oh, it was a good death to die ! " cried Charley, 
with glistening eyes. "Was it not a good death, 
Laurence ? " 

Laurence made no replj^ ; for his heart burned 
within him, as the picture of Wolfe, dying on the 
blood-stained field of victory, arose to his imagina- 
tion ; and yet he had a deep inward consciousness 
that, after all, there was a truer glory than could thus 
be won. 

" There were other battles in Canada after Wolfe's 
victory," resumed Grandfather ; " but we may con- 
sider the Old French War as having terminated with 
this great event. The treaty of peace, however, was 
not signed until 1Y63. The terms of the treaty were 
very disadvantageous to the French ; for all Canada, 
and all Acadia, and the Island of Cape Bj-eton, — in 
short, all the territories that France and England had 
been fighting about for nearly a hundred years, — 
were surrendered to the English." 

" So now, at last," said Laurence, " l^ew England 
had gained her wish. Canada was taken ! " 

"And now there was nobody to fight with but the 
Indians," said Charley. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 137 

Grandfather mentioned two other important events. 
The first was the great fire of Boston in 1760, when 
the glare from nearly three hundred buildings, all in 
flames at once, shone through the windows of the 
Province House, and threw a fierce lustre upon the 
gilded foliage and lion's head of our old chair. The 
second event was the proclamation, in the same year, 
of George the Third as King of Great Britain. The 
blast of the trumpet sounded from the balcony of the 
Town House, and awoke the echoes far and wide, as 
if to challenge all mankind to dispute King George's 
title. 

Seven times, as the successive monarchs of Britain 
ascended the throne, the trumpet peal of proclama- 
tion had been heard by those who sat in our ven- 
erable chair. But when the next king put on his 
father's crown, no trumpet peal proclaimed it to New 
England ! 



CHAPTER X. 

Now that Grandfather had fought through the old 
French War, in which our chair made no very distin- 
guished figure, he thought it high time to tell the 
children some of the moi-e private history of that 
praiseworthy old piece of furnitui-e. 

"In 1757," said Grandfather, "after Shirley had 
been summoned to England, Thomas Pownall was 
appointed governor of Massachusetts. He was a 
gay and fashionable English gentleman, who had 
spent much of his life in London, but had a consider- 
able acquaintance with America. Tlie new governor 
appears to have taken no active part in the war that 
was going on ; although, at one period, he talked of 
marching against the enemy at the head of his com- 
pany of cadets. But, on the whole, he probably con- 
cluded that it was more befitting a governor to remain 
quietly in our chair, reading the newspapers and offi- 
cial documents." 

" Did the people like Pownall ? " asked Charley. 

" They found no fault with him," replied Grand- 
father. " It was no time to quarrel with the governor 
when the utmost harmony was required in order to 
defend the country against the French. But Pownall 
did not remain long in Massachusetts. In 1759 he 
was sent to be governor of South Carolina. In thus 
exchanging one government for another, I suppose he 
felt no regret, except at the necessity of leaving 
Grandfather's chair behind him." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 139 

" He might have taken it to Soutli Carolina," ob- 
served Clara. 

" It appears to me," said Laurence, giving the rein 
to his fancy, " that the fate of this ancient chair was, 
somehow or other, mysteriously connected with the 
fortunes of old Massachusetts, If Governor Pownall 
had put it aboard the vessel in which he sailed for 
South Carolina, she would probably have lain wind- 
bound in Boston Harbor. It was ordained that the 
chair should not be taken away. Don't you think so. 
Grandfather ? " 

" It was kept here for Grandfather and me to sit in 
togethei*," said little Alice, " and for Grandfather to 
tell stories about." 

" And Grandfather is very glad of such a compan- 
ion and such a theme," said the old gentleman, with a 
smile. " Well, Laurence, if our oaken cliair, like the 
wooden Palladium of Troy, was connected with the 
country's fate, yet there appears to have been no su- 
pernatural obstacle to its removal from the Province 
House. In 1760 Sir Francis Bernard, who had been 
governor of ]S[ew Jersey, was appointed to the same 
office in Massachusetts. He looked at the old chair, 
and thought it quite too shabby to keep company with 
a new set of mahogany chairs and an aristocratic sofa 
which had just arrived from London. He therefore 
ordered it to be put away in tlie garret." 

The children were loud in their exclamations against 
this irreverent conduct of Sir Francis Bernard. But 
Grandfather defended him as well as he could. He 
observed that it was then thirty years since the chair 
had been beautified by Governor Belcher. Most of 
the gilding was worn off by the frequent scourings 



140 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

wliicli it had undergone beneath the hands of a black 
slave. The damask cushion, once so splendid, was 
now squeezed out of all shape, and absolutely' in tat- 
ters, so many were the ponderous gentlemen who had 
deposited their weight upon it during these thirty 
years. 

Moreover, at a council held by the Earl of Loudon 
with the governors of Xew England in 1757, his lord- 
ship, in a moment of passion, had kicked over the 
chair with his military boot. By this unprovoked 
and unjustifiable act, our venerable friend had suffered 
a fracture of one of its rungs. 

" But," said Grandf athei-, " our chair, after all, was 
not destined to spend the remainder of its days in 
the inglorious obscurity of a garret. Thomas Hutch- 
inson, lieutenantrgovernor of the province, was told 
of Sir Francis Bernard's design. This gentleman 
was more familiar with the history of ]^ew England 
than any other man alive. He knew all the adven- 
tures and vicissitudes through which the old chair had 
passed, and could have told as accurately as your own 
Grandfather who were the personages that had occu- 
pied it. Often, while visiting at the Province House, 
he had eyed the chair with admiration, and felt a long- 
ing desire to become the possessor of it. He now 
waited upon Sir Francis Bernard, and easily obtained 
leave to carry it home." 

" And I hope," said Clara, " he had it varnished 
and gilded anew." 

" No," answered Grandfather. " What Mr. Hutch- 
inson desired was, to restore the chair as much as pos- 
sible to its original aspect, such as it had appeared 
when it was first made out of the Earl of Lincoln's 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 141 

oak-tree. For this purpose he ordered it to be well 
scoured with soap and sand and polished with wax, 
and then provided it with a substantial leather cush- 
ion. When all was completed to his mind he sat 
down in the old chair, and began to write his History 
of Massachusetts." 

"Oh, that was a bright thought in Mr. Hutch- 
inson ! " exclaimed Laurence. " And no doubt the 
dim figures of the former possessors of the chair flit- 
ted around him as he wrote, and inspired him wdth a 
knowledge of all that they had done and suffered 
while on earth." 

" "Why, my dear Laurence," replied Grandfather, 
smiling, "if Mr. Hutchinson w-as favored with any 
such extraordinary inspiration, he made but a poor 
use of it in his history ; for a duller piece of compo- 
sition never came from any man's pen. However, he 
was accurate, at least, though far from possessing the 
brilliancy or philosophy of Mr. Bancroft." 

" But if Hutchinson knew the history of the chair," 
rejoined Laurence, " his heart must have been stirred 
by it." 

" It must, indeed," said Grandfather. " It would 
be entertaining and instructive, at the present day, to 
imagine what were Mr. Hutchinson's thoughts as he 
looked back upon the long vista of events with which 
this chair was so remarkably connected." 

And Grandfather allowed his fancy to shape out an 
image of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, sitting in 
an evening reverie by his fire-side, and meditating on 
the changes that had slowly passed around the chair. 

A devoted monarchist, Hutchinson would heave no 
sigh for the subversion of the original republican gov- 



142 ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

ernment, the purest that the world had seen, with 
which tlie colony began its existence. While i-ever- 
encing the grim and stern old Puritans as the found- 
ers of his native land, he would not wish to recall 
them from their graves, nor to awaken again that 
king-resisting spirit which he imagined to be laid 
asleep with them forever. "Winthrop, Dudley, Bel- 
lingham, Endicott, Leverett, and Bradstreet ! all these 
had had their day. Ages might come and go, but 
never again would the people's suffrages place a re- 
publican governor in their ancient Chair of State. 

Coming down to the epoch of the second charter, 
Hutchinson thought of the ship-carpenter Phips, 
springing from the lowest of the people and attaining 
to the loftiest station in the land. But he smiled to 
perceive that this governor's example would awaken 
no turbulent ambition in the lower orders ; for it was 
a king's gracious boon alone that made the ship-car- 
penter a ruler. ' Hutchinson rejoiced to mark the 
gradual growth of an aristocratic class, to whom the 
common people, as in duty bound, were learning 
humbly to resign the honors, emoluments, and au- 
thority of state. He saw — or else deceived himself — 
that, throughout this epoch, the people's disposition 
to self-government had been growing weaker through 
long disuse, and now existed only as a faint tradition- 
ary feeling. 

The lieutenant-governor's reverie had now come 
down to the period at which he himself was sitting 
in the historic chair. He endeavored to throw his 
glance forward over the coming years. There, prob- 
ably, he saw visions of hereditary rank for himself 
and other aristocratic colonists. He saw the fertile 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 143 

fields of l^ew England proportioned out among a few 
great landholders, and descending bj entail from gen- 
eration to generation. He saw the people a race of 
tenantry, dependent on their lords. He saw stars, 
garters, coronets, and castles. 

"But," added Grandfather, turning to Laurence, 
" the lieutenant-governor's castles wxre built nowhere 
but among; the red embers of the fire before which 
he was sitting. And, just as he had constructed a 
baronial residence for himself and his posterity, the 
fire rolled down upon the hearth and crumbled it to 
ashes ! " 

Grandfather now looked at his watch, which hung 
within a beautiful little ebony temple, supported by 
four Ionic columns. He then laid his hand on the 
golden locks of little Alice, whose head had sunk 
down upon the arm of our illustrious chair. 

" To bed, to bed, dear child ! " said he. " Grand- 
father has put you to sleep already by his stories 
about these famous old people." 



LIBERTY TREE 



WITH THE LAST WORDS OF 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



PEEFACE 



Has the youthful reader grown wearj of Grand- 
father's stories about his chair ? "Will he not come 
this once more to our fire-side and be received as an 
own grandchild, and as brother, sister, or cousin to 
Laurence, Clara, Charley, and little Alice ? Come, 
do not be bashful, nor afraid. You will find Grand- 
father a kindly old man, with a cheerful spirit, and a 
heart that has grown mellow, instead of becoming 
dry and wilted with age. 

He will tell you how King George, trusting in the 
might of his armies and navies, sought to establish a 
tyranny over our fathers. Then you shall heai- about 
Liberty Tree, and what crowds used to assemble with- 
in the circumference of its shadow. Grandfather 
must speak also about riots and disorders, and how 
an angry multitude broke into the mansion of the 
lieutenant-governor. Next, he will show yon the 
proud array of British soldiers, in their uniforms of 
scarlet and gold, landing at Long Wharf, and march- 
ing to take possession of the Common and Faneuil 
Hall and the Old State House. Then you must listen 
to the dismal tale of the Boston Massacre. Next 
conies the marvellous story of the tea ships and of 
that band of Indian figures who made their appearance 
in the dusk of evening and vanished before the dawn 



148 OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

of daj. Now come more and more regiments of sol- 
diers. Their tents whiten the Common like untimely 
snow. Their war-horses prance and neigh within the 
walls of the Old South Church. Hark ! that faint 
echo comes from Lexington, where the British soldiers 
have fired a volley that begins the war of the Revo- 
lution. The people are up in arms. Gage, Howe, 
Burgoyne, Lord Percy, and many another haughty 
Englishman are beleagured within the peninsula of 
Boston. The Americans build batteries on every 
hill ; and look ! a warlike figure, on a wliite horse, 
rides majestically from heiglit to height and directs 
the progress of the siege. Can it be WAsniisrGTON ? 

Then Grandfather will call up the shadow of a de- 
voted loyalist, and strive to paint him to your eyes 
and heart as he takes liis farewell walk through Bos- 
ton. We will trace his melancholy steps from Faneuil 
Hall to Liberty Tree. That famous tree ! The axes 
of the British soldiers have hewn it down, but not be- 
fore its wind-strewn leaves had scattered the spirit 
of freedom far and wide — not before its roots had 
sprouted even in the distant soil of Georgia. 

Amid all these wonderful matters we shall not lose 
sight of Geaistdfather's Chair. On its sturdy oaken 
legs it trudges diligently from one scene to another, 
and seems always to thrust itself in the way with the 
most benign complacency, whenever an historical 
personage happens to be looking round for a seat. 
The excellent old Chair ! Let the reader make much 
of it while he may ; for with this little volume 
Grandfather concludes its history, and withdraws it 
from the public eye. 

Boston, Feb. 27, 1841. 



LIBERTY TEEE, 

WITH THE LAST WORDS OF GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



CHAPTER I. 



Oisr the evening of 'New Year's Day Grandfather 
was walking to and fro across the carpet, listening to 
the rain which beat hard against the curtained win- 
dows. The riotous blast shook the casement as if a 
strong man were striving to force his entrance into 
the comfortable room. With every puif of the wind 
the lire leaped upward from the heartli, laughing and 
rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry storm. 

Meanwhile Grandfather's chair stood in its custom- 
ary place by the fireside. The bright blaze gleamed 
"upon the fantastic figures of its oaken back, and 
shone through the open-work, so that a complete 
pattern was thrown upon the opposite side of the 
room. Sometimes, for a moment or two, the shadow 
remained immovable, as if it were painted on the 
wall. Then, all at once, it began to quiver, and leap, 
and dance with a frisky motion. Anon, seeming to 
remember that these antics were unworthy of such a 
dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly stood still. 
But soon it began to dance anew. 

" Only see how Grandfather's chair is dancing ! " 
cried little Alice. 



150 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

And she ran to the wall and tried to catch hold of 
the flickering shadow; for, to children of five years 
old, a shadow seems almost as real as a substance. 

" I wish," said Clara, " Grandfather would sit down 
in the chair and finish its history." 

If the children had been looking at Grandfather, 
they would have noticed that he paused in his walk 
across the room when Clara made this remark. The 
kind old gentleman was ready and willing to resume 
his stories of departed times. But he had resolved 
to wait till his auditors should request him to proceed, 
in order that they might find the instructive history 
of the chair a pleasure, and not a task. 

" Grandfather," said Charley, " I am tired to death 
of this dismal rain and of hearing the wind roar in 
the chimney. I have had no good time all day. It 
would be better to hear stories about the chair than 
to sit doing nothing and thinking of nothing." 

To say the truth, our friend Charley was very 
much out of humor with the storm, because it had 
kept him all day within doors, and hindered him 
from making a trial of a splendid sled, which Grand- 
father had given him for a New Year's gift. As all 
sleds, nowadays, must have a name, the one in ques- 
tion had been honoi-ed with the title ,of Grand- 
father's Chair, which was painted in golden letters 
on each of the sides. Charley greatly admired the 
construction of the new vehicle, and felt certain that 
it would outstrip any other sled that ever dashed 
adown the long slopes of the Common. 

As for Laurence, he happened to be thinking, just 
at this moment, about the history of the chair. Kind 
old Grandfather had made him a present of a volume 



OBANBFATHER'S CHAIR. 151 

of engraved portraits, representing the features of 
eminent and famous people of all countries. Among 
them Laurence found several who had formerly oc- 
cupied our chair or been connected with its adven- 
tures. "While Grandfather walked to and fro across 
the room, the imaginative boy was gazing at the his- 
toric chair. He endeavored to summon up the por- 
traits which he had seen in his volume, and to place 
them, like living figures, in the empty seat. 

"The old chair has begun another year of its exist- 
ence, to-day," said Laurence. " We must make haste, 
or it will have a new history to be told before we fin- 
ish the old one." 

"Yes, my children," replied Grandfather with a 
smile and a sigh, " another year has been added to 
those of the two hundred and ten which have passed 
since the Lady Arbella brought this chair over from 
England. It is three times as old as your Grand- 
father ; but a year makes no impression on its oaken 
frame, while it bends the old man nearer and nearer 
to the earth ; so let me go on with my stories while 
I may." 

Accordingly Grandfather came to the fireside and 
seated himself in the venerable chair. The lion's 
head looked down with a grimly good-natured aspect 
as the children clustered around the old gentleman's 
knees. It almost seemed as if a real lion were peep- 
ing over the back of the chair, and smiling at the 
group of auditors with a sort of lion-like complai- 
sance. Little Alice, whose fancy often inspired her 
with singular ideas, exclaimed that the lion's head 
was nodding at her, and that it looked as if it wero 
going to open its wide jaws and tell a story. 



152 ORANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 

But as the lion's head appeared to be in no haste 
to speak, and as there was no record or tradition of 
its having spoken during the whole existence of the 
chair, Grandfather did not consider it worth while to 
wait. 



CHAPTER II. 

" Charley, my boy," said Grandfather, " do you 
remember who was the last occupant of the chair ? " 

"It was Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson," an- 
swered Charley. " Sir Francis Bernard, the new 
governor, had given him the chair, instead of putting 
it away in the garret of the Province House. And 
when we took leave of Hutchinson he was sitting by 
his fireside, and thinking of the past adventures of 
the chair and of what was to come." 

"Yery well," said Grandfather; "and you recol- 
lect that this was in 1763, or therctibouts, at tlie close 
of the Old French War. Kow, that you may fully 
comprehend the remaining ndveutuies of the chair, I 
must make some brief remarks on the situation and 
character of the I^ew England colonies at this 
period." 

So Grandfather spoke of the earnest loyalty of our 
fathers during the Old French War, and after the 
conquest of Canada had brought that war to a tri- 
umphant close. 

The people loved and reverenced the King of Eng- 
land even more than if the ocean had not rolled its 
waves between him and them ; for, at the distance of 
three thousand miles, they could not discover his bad 
qualities and imperfections. Their love was increased 
by the dangers which they had encountered in order 
to heighten his glory and extend his dominion. 



154 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Throughout the war the American colonists had 
fought side by side with tlie soldiers of Old England ; 
and nearly thirty thousand young men had laid down 
their lives for the honor of King George. And the 
survivors loved him the better because they had done 
and suffered so much for his sake. 

But there were some circumstances that caused 
America to feel more independent of England than 
at an earlier period. Canada and Acadia had now 
become British provinces ; and our fathers were no 
longer afraid of the bands of French and Indians who 
used to assault them in old times. For a century and 
a half this had been the great terror of I^Tew England. 
l^ow the old French soldier was driven from the north 
forever. And, even had it been otherwise, the Eng- 
lish colonies were growing so populous and powerful 
that they might have felt fully able to protect them- 
selves without any help from England. 

There were thoughtful and sagacious men, who be- 
gan to doubt whether a great country like America 
would always be content to remain under the govern- 
ment of an island three thousand miles away. This 
was the more doubtful, because the English Parlia- 
ment had long ago made laws which were intended 
to be very beneficial to England at the expense of 
America. By these laws the colonists were forbid- 
den to manufacture articles for their own use, or to 
carry on trade with any nation but the English. 

" Now," continued Grandfather, " if King George 
the Third and his counsellors had considered these 
things wisely, they would have taken another course 
than they did. But when they saw how rich and 
populous the colonies had grown, their first thought 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 155 

was how they might make more profit out of them 
than heretofore. England was enormously in debt 
at the close of the Old French "War ; and it was pre- 
tended that this debt had been contracted for the de- 
fence of the American colonies, and that, therefore, 
a part of it ought to be paid by them." 

"Why, this was nonsense," exclaimed Charley. 
"Did not our fathers spend their lives, and their 
money too, to get Canada for King George? " 

" True, they did," said Grandfather ; " and they 
told the English rulers so. But the king and his 
ministers would not listen to good advice. In 1765 
the British Parliament passed a Stamp Act." 

" What was that ? " inquired Charley. 

" The Stamp Act," replied Grandfather, " was a 
law by which all deeds, bonds, and other papers of 
the same kind were ordered to be marked with the 
king's stamp ; and without this mark they were de- 
clared illegal and void. Now, in order to get a blank 
sheet of paper with the king's stamp upon it, people 
were obliged to pay threepence more than the actual 
value of the paper. And this extra sum of threepence 
was a tax, and was to be paid into the king's treas- 
ury." 

" I am sure threepence was not worth quarrelling 
about ! " remarked Clara. 

" It was not for threepence, nor for any amount of 
money, that America quarrelled with England," re- 
plied Grandfather ; " it was for a great principle. 
The colonists were determined not to be taxed except 
by their own representatives. They said that neither 
the king and Parliament, nor any other power on 
earth, had a right to take their money out of their 



156 OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

pockets unless they freely gave it. And, rather than 
pay threepence when it was unjustly demanded, they 
resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of the country, and 
their lives along with it. They therefore made a most 
stubborn resistance to the Stamp Act." 

" That was noble ! " exclaimed Laurence, " I un- 
derstand how it was. If they had quietly paid the 
tax of threepence, they would have ceased to be free- 
men, and would hav^e become tributaries of England. 
And so they contended about a great question of right 
and wrong, and put everything at stake for it." 

"You are right, Laurence," said Grandfather, " and 
it was really amazing and terrible to see what a 
change came over the aspect of the people the mo- 
ment the English Parliament had passed this oppres- 
sive act. The former history of our chair, my chil- 
dren, has given you some idea of what a harsh, 
unyielding, stern set of men the old Puritans were. 
For a good many years back, however, it had seemed 
as if these characteristics were disappearing. But no 
sooner did Eno-land offer wrono; to the colonies than 
the descendants of the early settlers proved that they 
had the same kind of temper as theii" forefathers. 
The moment before, Kew England appeared like a 
humble and loyal subject of the crown ; the next in- 
stant, she showed the grim, dark features of an old 
king-resisting Puritan." 

Grandfather spoke briefly of the public measures 
that were taken in opposition to the Stamp Act. As 
this law affected all the American colonies alike, it 
naturally led them to think of consulting together in 
order to procure its repeal. For this purpose the 
Legislature of Massachusetts proposed that delegates 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 157 

from every colony should meet in Congress. Accord- 
ingly nine colonies, both northern and southern, sent 
delegates to the city of New York. 

"And did they consult about going to war with 
England ? " asked Charley. 

" No, Charley," answered Grandfather ; " a great 
deal of talking was yet to be done before England 
and America could come to blows. The Congress 
stated the rights and grievances of the colonies. They 
sent an humble petition to the king, and a memorial 
to the Parliament, beseeching that the Stamp Act 
might be repealed. This was all that the delegates 
had it in their power to do." 

" They might as well have stayed at home, then," 
said Charley. 

" By no means," replied Grandfather. " It was a 
most important and memorable event, — this first com- 
ing together of the American people by their repre- 
sentatives from the north and south. If England 
had been wise, she would have trembled at the first 
word that was spoken in such an assembly ! " 

These remonstrances and petitions, as Grandfather 
observed, were the work of grave, thoughtful, and 
prudent men. Meantime the young and hot-headed 
people went to work in their own way. It is prob- 
able that the petitions of Congress would have had 
little or no effect on the British statesmen if the vio- 
lent deeds of the American people had not shown how 
much excited the people were. Liberty Tree was 
Boon heard of in England. 

"What was Liberty Tree?" inquired Clara. 

" It was an old elm tree," answered Grandfather, 
" which stood near the corner of Essex street, op- 



158 ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

posite the Boylston Market. Under the spreading 
branches of this great tree the people used to assem- 
ble whenever they wished to express their feelings 
and opinions. Thus, after a while, it seemed as if 
the liberty of the country was connected with Liberty 
Tree." 

" It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear," remarked 
Laurence. 

"It bore strange fruit, sometimes," said Grand- 
father. " One morning in August, 1Y65, two figures 
were found hanging on the sturdy branches of Lib- 
erty Tree. They were dressed in square-skirted 
coats and small-clothes ; and, as their wugs hung 
down over their faces, they looked like real men. 
One was intended to represent the Earl of Bute, 
who was supposed to have advised the king to tax 
America. The other was meant for the efiigy of An- 
drew Oliver, a gentleman belonging to one of the 
most respectable families in Massachusetts." 

" What harm had he done ? " inquired Charley. 

" The king had appointed him to be distributor of 
the stamps," answered Grandfather. " Mr. Oliver 
would have made a great deal of money by this busi- 
ness. But the people frightened him so much bj 
hanging him in eifigy, and af tei-wards by breaking 
into his house, that he promised to have nothing to 
do with the stamps. And all the king's friends 
throughout America were compelled to make the 
same promise." 



CHAPTER III. 

" Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson," continued 
Grandfather, " now began to be nnqniet in our old 
chair. He had formerly been much respected and 
beloved by the people, and had often proved himself 
a friend to their interests. But the time was come 
when he could not be a friend to the people without 
ceasing to be a friend to the king. It was pretty 
generally understood that Hutchinson would act ac- 
cording to tlie king's wishes, right or wrong, like 
most of the other gentlemen who held offices under 
the crown. Besides, as he was brother-in-law of 
Andrew Oliver, the people now felt a particular dis- 
like to him." 

" I should think," said Laurence, " as Mr. Hutchin- 
son had written the history of our Puritan forefath- 
ers, he would have known what the temper of the peo- 
ple was, and so have taken care not to wrong them." 

" He trusted in the might of the King of England," 
replied Grandfather, " and thought himself safe under 
the shelter of the throne. If no dispute had arisen 
between the king and the people, Hutchinson would 
have had the character of a wise, good, and patriotic 
magistrate. But, from the time that he took part 
against the rights of his country, the people's love and 
respect were turned to scorn and hatred, and he never 
had another hour of peace." 

In order to show what a fierce and dangerous 



160 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

spirit was now aroused among the inhabitants, Grand- 
father related a passage from history which we shall 
call 

THE HUTCHINSON MOB. 

On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, 
1Y65, a bonfire was kindled in King street. It 
flamed high upward, and threw a ruddy light over 
the front of the town house, on which was displayed 
a carved representation of the royal arms. The gilded 
vane of the cupola glittered in the blaze. The kind- 
ling of this bonfire was the well known signal for the 
populace of Boston to assemble in the street. 

Before the tar-barrels, of which the bonfire was 
made, were half burned out, a great crowd had come 
together. They were chiefly laborers and seafaring 
men, together with many young apprentices, and all 
those idle people about town who are ready for any 
kind of mischief. Doubtless some school-boys were 
among them. 

"While these rough figures stood round the blazing 
bonfire, you might hear them speaking bitter words 
against the high officers of the province. Governor 
Bernard, Hutchinson, Oliver, Storey, Hallowell, and 
other men whom King Geoi'ge delighted to honor, 
were reviled as traitors to the country. Now and 
then, perhaps, an officer of the crown passed along 
the street, wearing the gold-laced hat, white wig, and 
embroidered waistcoat which were the fashion of the 
day. But when the people beheld him they set up a 
wild and angry howl ; and their faces had an evil as- 
pect, which was made more terrible by the flickering 
blaze of the bonfire. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 161 

" I should like to tlirow the traitor right into that 
blaze ! " perhaps one fierce rioter would say. 

" Yes ; and all his brethren too ! " another might 
reply ; " and the governor and old Tommy Hutchin- 
son into the hottest of it ! " 

" And the Earl of Bute along with them ! " mut- 
tered a third ; " and burn the whole pack of them 
under King George's nose ! No matter if it singed 
him ! " 

Some such expressions as these, either shouted 
aloud or muttered under the breath, were doubtless 
heard in King street. The mob, meanwhile, were 
growing fiercer and fiercer, and seemed ready even to 
set the town on fire for the sake of burning the king's 
friends out of house and home. And yet, angry as 
they were, they sometimes broke into a loud roar of 
laughter, as if mischief and destruction were their 
sport. 

But we must now leave the rioters for a time, and 
take a peep into the lieutenant governor's splendid 
mansion. It was a large brick house, decorated with 
Ionic pilasters, and stood in Garden Court street, near 
the North Square. 

"While the angry mob in King street were shouting 
liis name. Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson sat quietly 
in Grandfather's chair, unsuspicious of the evil that 
was about to fall upon his head. His beloved family 
were in the room with him. He had thrown off his 
embroidered coat and powdered wig, and had on a 
loose flowing gown and purple velvet cap. He had 
likewise laid aside the cares of state and all the 
thoughts that had wearied and perplexed him through- 
out the day. 
11 



162 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Perhaps, in the enjoyment of his home, he had 
forgotten all about the Stamp Act, and scarcelj' re- 
membered that there was a king, across the ocean, 
who had resolved to make tributaries of the New 
Englanders. Possibly, too, he had forgotten his 
own ambition, and would not have exchanged his 
situation, at that moment, to be governor, or even a 
lord. 

The wax candles were now lighted, and showed a 
handsome room, well provided with rich furniture. 
On the walls hung the pictures of Hutchinson's ances- 
tors, who had been eminent men in their day, and were 
honorably remembered in the history of the country. 
Every object served to mark the residence of a rich, 
aristocratic gentleman, who held himself high above 
the common people, and could have nothing to fear 
from them. In a corner of the room, thrown careless- 
ly upon a chair, were the scarlet robes of the chief 
justice. This high office, as well as those of lieuten- 
ant governor, counsellor, and judge of probate, was 
filled by Hutchinson. 

Who or what could disturb the domestic quiet of 
such a great and powerful personage as now sat in 
Grandfather's chair. 

The lieutenant governor's favorite daughter sat by 
liis side. She leaned on the arm of onr great chair, 
and looked up affectionately into her father's face, re- 
joicing to perceive that a quiet smile was on his lips. 
But suddenly a shade came across her countenance. 
She seemed to listen attentively, as if to catch a dis- 
tant sound. 

" What is the matter, my child ?" inquired Hutch- 
inson. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 163 

*' Father, do not yon hear a tumult in the streets ? " 
said she. 

The lieutenant governor listened. But his ears were 
duller than those of his daughter ; he could hear noth- 
ino; more terrible than the sound of a summer breeze, 
sighing among the tops of the elm-trees. 

" No, foolish child ! " he replied, playfully patting 
her cheek. '• There is no tumult. Oar Boston mobs 
are satisfied with what mischief they have already 
done. The king's friends need not tremble." 

So Hutchinson resumed his pleasant and peaceful 
meditations, and again forgot that there were any 
troubles in the world. But his family were alarmed, 
and could not help straining their ears to catch the 
slightest sound. Moi'e and more distinctly they heard 
shouts, and then the trampling of many feet. While 
they were listening, one of the neighbors rushed 
breathless into the I'oom. 

" A mob ! — a terrible mob ! " cried he. " They have 
broken into Mr. Storey's house, and into Mr. Hallo- 
well's, and have made themselves drunk with the liq- 
uors in his cellar ; and now they are coming hither, as 
wild as so many tigers. Flee, lieutenant governor, 
for your life ? " 

" Father, dear father, make haste ! " shrieked his 
children. 

But Hutchinson would not hearken to them. He 
was an old lawyer ; and he could not realize that the 
people would do anything so utterly lawless as to as- 
sault him in his peaceful home. He was one of King 
George's chief officers ; and it would be an insult and 
outrage upon the king himself if the lieutenant gov- 
ernor should suffer any wrong. 



164 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" Have no fears on my account," said he; "I am per- 
fectly safe. Tlie king's name shall be my protection." 

Yet he bade his family retire into one of the neigh- 
boring houses. His daughter would have remained, 
but he forced her away. 

The huzzas and riotous uproar of the mob were now 
heard, close at hand. The sound was terrible, and 
struck Hutchinson with the same sort of dread as if 
an enraged wild beast had broken loose and were roar- 
ing for its prey. He crept softly to the window. 
There he beheld an immense concourse of people, fill- 
ing all the street and rolling onward to his house. 
It was like a tempestuous flood, that had swelled be- 
yond its bounds and would sweep everything before it. 
Hutchinson trembled ; he felt, at that moment, that 
the M^atli of the people was a thousand-fold more ter- 
rible than the wrath of a king. 

That was a moment when a loyalist and an aristo- 
crat like Hutchinson might have learned how power- 
less are kings, nobles, and great men, when the low 
and humble range themselves against them. King 
George could do nothing for his servant now. Had 
King George been there he could have done nothing 
for himself. If Hutchinson had understood this les- 
son, and remembered it, he need not, in after years, 
have been an exile from his native country, nor finally 
have laid his bones in a distant land. 

There was now a rush against the doors of the 
house. The people sent up a discordant cry. At 
this instant the lieutenant governor's daughter, whom 
he had supposed to be in a place of safety, ran into 
the room and threw her arms around him. She had 
returned by a private entrance. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 1G5 

" Father, are you mad ? " cried she. " Will the 
king's name protect you now ? Come with me, or 
they will have your life." 

"True," muttered Hutchinson to himself; "what 
care these roarers for the name of king ? I must flee, 
or they will trample me down on the door of my own 
dwelling ! " 

Hurrying away, he and his daughter made their es- 
cape by the private passage at the moment when the 
rioters broke into the house. The foremost of them 
rushed up the stair-case, and entered the room which 
Hutchinson had just quitted. There they beheld our 
good old chair facing them with quiet dignity, while 
the lion's head seemed to move its jaws in the unsteady 
light of their torches. Perhaps the stately aspect of 
our venerable friend, which had stood firm through a 
century and a half of trouble, arrested them for an 
instant. But they were thrust forward by those be- 
hind, and the chair lay overthrown. 

Then began the work of destruction. The carved 
and polished mahogany tables were shattered with 
heavy clubs and hewn to splinters with axes. The 
marble hearths and mantel pieces were broken. The 
volumes of Hutchinson's library, so precious to a stu- 
dious man, were torn out of their covers, and the 
leaves sent flying out of the windows. Manuscripts, 
containing secrets of our country's history, which are 
now lost forever, were scattered to the winds. 

The old ancestral portraits, whose fixed countenances 
looked down on the wild scene, were rent from the 
walls. The mob triumphed in their downfall and de- 
struction, as if these pictures of Hutchinson's fore- 
fathers had committed the same offences as their de- 



166 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

scendant. A tall looking-glass, wliicli had hitherto 
presented a reflection of the enraged and drunken 
multitude, was now smashed into a thousand frag- 
ments. "We gladly dismiss the scene from the mirror 
of our fancy. 

Before morning dawned the walls of the house were 
all that remained. The interior was a dismal scene 
of ruin. A shower pattered in at the broken windows ; 
and when Hutchinson and his family returned, they 
stood shivering in the same room where the last even- 
ing had seen them so peaceful and happy. 



" Grandfather," said Laurence, indignantly, " if the 
people acted in this manner, they were not worthy of 
even so much liberty as the king of England was 
willing to allow them." 

" It was a most unjustifiable act, like many other 
popular movements at that time," replied Grandfather, 
" But we must not decide against the justice of the 
people's cause merely because an excited mob was 
guilty of outrageous violence. Besides, all these 
things were done in the first fury of resentment. Af- 
terwards the people grew more calm, and were more 
influenced by the counsel of those wise and good men 
who conducted them safely and gloriously through 
the Revolution." 

Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said that 
she hoped the neighbors had not let Lieutenant Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson and his family be homeless in the 
street, but had taken them into their houses and been 
kind to them. Cousin Clara, recollecting the perilous 



ORANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 167 

situation of owe beloved chair, inquired what had be- 
come of it. 

" Nothing was heard of our chair for some time af- 
terwards," answered Grandfather. " One day in Sep- 
tember, the same Andrew Oliver, of whom I before 
told you, was summoned to appear at high noon under 
Liberty Tree. This was the strangest summons that 
had ever been heard of ; for it was issued in the name 
of the whole people, who thus took upon themselves 
the authority of a sovereign power. Mr. Oliver dared 
not disobey. Accordingly, at the appointed hour he 
went, much against his will, to Liberty Tree." 

Here Charley interposed a remark that poor Mr. 
Oliver found but little liberty nnder Liberty Tree. 
Grandfather assented. 

" It was a stormy day," continued he. " The equi- 
noctial gale blew violently, and scattered the yellow 
leaves of Liberty Tree all along the street. Mr. Oli- 
ver's wig was dripping with water-drops; and he 
probably looked haggard, disconsolate, and humbled 
to the earth. Beneath the tree, in Grandfather's 
chair, — our own venerable chair, — sat Mr. Richard 
Dana, a justice of the peace. He administered an 
oath to Mr. Oliver that he would never have anything 
to do with distributing the stamps. A vast concourse 
of people heard the oath, and shouted when it was 
taken." 

" There is something grand in this," said Laurence. 
"I like it, because the people seem to have acted with 
thoughtf ulness and dignity ; and this proud gentleman, 
one of his Majesty's high oiBcers, was made to feel 
that King George could not protect him in doing 
wrong." 



168 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" But it was a sad day for poor Mr. Oliver," ob- 
served Grandfather, " From his youth upward it had 
probably been the great principle of his life to be 
faithful and obedient to the king. And now, in his 
old age, it must have puzzled and distracted him to 
find the sovereign people setting up a claim to his 
faith and obedience." 

Grandfather closed the evening's conversation by 
saying that the discontent of America was so great, 
that, in 1766, the British Parliament was compelled 
to repeal the Stamp Act. The people made great 
rejoicings, but took care to keep Liberty Tree well 
pruned and free from caterpillars and canker worms. 
They foresaw that there might yet be occasion for 
them to assemble under its far projecting shadow. 



CHAPTEE 17. 

The next evening, Clara, who remembered that onr 
cliair had been left standing in the rain under Liberty 
Tree, earnestly besought Grandfather to tell when and 
where it had next found shelter. Perhaps she was 
afraid that the venerable chair, by being exposed to 
the inclemency of a September gale, might get the 
rheumatism in its aged joints. 

" The chair," said Grandfather, " after the ceremony 
of Mr. Oliver's oath, appears to have been quite for- 
gotten by the multitude. Indeed, being much bruised 
and rather rickety, owing to the violent treatment it 
had suffered from the Hutchinson mob, most people 
would have thought that its days of usefulness were 
over. Nevertheless, it was conveyed away under 
cover of the night and committed to the care of a 
skilful joiner. He doctored our old friend so success- 
fully, that, in the course of a few days, it made its 
appearance in the public room of the British Coffee 
House, in King street." 

"But why did not Mr. Hutchinson get possession 
of it again ? " iquired Charley. 

" I know not," answered Grandfather, " unless he 
considered it a dishonor and disgrace to the chair to 
have stood under Liberty Tree. At all events, he 
suffered it to remain at the British Coffee House, 
which was the principal hotel in Boston. It could 
not possibly have found a situation where it would be 



lYO ORANDFATHER'8 CHAIR 

more in the midst of business and bustle, or would 
witness more important events, or be occupied by a 
greater variety of persons." 

Grandfather went on to tell the proceedings of the 
despotic king and ministry of England after the repeal 
of the Stamp Act. They could not bear to think that 
their right to tax America should be disputed by the 
people. In the year 1T67, therefore, they caused Par- 
liament to pass an act for laying a duty on tea and 
some other articles that were in general use. In obody 
could now buy a pound of tea without paying a tax 
to King George. This scheme was pretty craftily 
contrived ; for the women of America were very fond 
of tea, and did not like to give up the use of it. 

But the people were as much opposed to this new 
act of Parliament as they had been to the Stamp Act, 
England, however, was determined that they should 
submit. In order to compel their obedience, two reg- 
iments, consisting of more than seven hundred British 
soldiers, were sent to Boston. They arrived in Sep- 
tember, 1768, and were landed on Long wharf. 
Thence they marched to the Common with loaded 
muskets, fixed bayonets, and great pomp and parade. 
So now, at last, the free town of Boston was guarded 
and overawed by red-coats as it had been in the days 
of old Sir Edmund Andros. 

In the month of November more regiments arrived. 
There were now four thousand troops in Boston. The 
Common was whitened with their tents. Some of 
the soldiers were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which the 
inhabitants looked upon as a consecrated place, be- 
cause it had been the scene of a great many meetings 
in favor of liberty. One regiment was placed in the 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 171 

Town House, which we now call the Old State House. 
The lower floor of this edifice had hitherto been used 
by the merchants as an exchange. In the upper 
stories were the chambers of the judges, the repre- 
sentatives, and the governor's council. The venerable 
counsellors could not assemble to consult about the 
welfare of the province without being challenged by 
sentinels and passing among the bayonets of the 
British soldiers. 

Sentinels, likewise, were posted at the lodgings of 
the oflicers in many parts of the town. When the 
inhabitants approached they were greeted by the sharp 
question — " Who goes there ? " — while the rattle of 
the soldier's musket was heard as he presented it 
against their breasts. There was no quiet even on 
the Sabbath day. The pious descendants of the 
Puritans were shocked by the uproar of military 
music ; the drum, the fife, and bugle drowning the 
holy organ peal and the voices of the singers. It 
would appear as if the British took every method to 
insult the feelings of the people. 

'■ Grandfather," cried Charley, impatiently, " the 
people did not go to fighting half soon enough ! These 
British red-coats ought to have been driven back to 
their vessels the very moment they landed on Long 
wharf." 

" Many a hot-headed young man said the same as 
you do, Charley," answered Grandfather. " But the 
elder and wiser people saw that the time was not yet 
come. Meanwhile, let us take another peep at our 
old chair." 

" Ah, it drooped its head, I know," said Charley, 
" when it saw how the province was disgraced. Its 



172 GBANBFATIIEWS CHAIR. 

old puritan friends never would have borne such do- 
ings," 

" The chair," proceeded Grandfather, " was now 
continually occupied by some of the high tories, us 
the king's friends were called, who frequented the 
British Coffee House. Officers of the custom house, 
too, which stood on the opposite side of King Street, 
often sat in the chair wagging their tongues against 
John Hancock." 

" "Why against him ? " asked Charley. 

" Because he was a great merchant and contended 
against paying duties to the king," said Grand- 
father. 

"Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the 
British regiments, when not on duty, used to fling 
themselves into the arras of our venerable chaii-. 
Fancy one of them, a red nosed captain in his scarlet 
uniform, playing with the hilt of his sword, and mak- 
ing a circle of his brother officers merry with ridicu- 
lous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees. And 
perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine, or a steam- 
ing bowl of punch, and drink confusion to all rebels." 

" Our grave old chair must have been scandalized 
at such scenes," observed Laurence ; " the chair that 
had been the Lady Arbeila's, and which the holy 
Apostle Eliot liad consecrated." 

" It certainly was little less than sacrilege," replied 
Grandfather ; " but the time was coming when even 
the churches, where hallowed pastors had long 
preaclied the word of God, were to be torn down or 
desecrated by the British troops. Some years passed, 
however, before such things were done." 

Grandfather told his auditors that, in 1769, Sir 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 173 

Francis Bernard went to England after having been 
governor of Massaclinsetts ten years. He was a gentle- 
man of many good qnalities, an exellent scholar, and 
a friend to learning. But lie was naturally of an ar- 
bitrary disposition ; and he had been bred at the Uni- 
versity of Oxford, where young men were taught that 
the divine right of kings was the only thing to be re- 
garded in matters of government. Such ideas were 
ill adapted to please the people of Massachusetts. 
They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but 
liked his successor. Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson, 
no better than himself. 

About this period the people were much incensed at 
an act committed by a person who held an office in 
the custom house. Some lads, or young men were 
snow-balling his windows. He fired a musket at them, 
and killed a poor German boy, only eleven 3'ears old. 
This event made a great noise in town and country, 
and much increased the resentment that was already 
felt against the servants of the crown. 

" Now, children," said Grandfather, " I wish to 
make you comprehend the position of the British 
troops in King street. This is the same which we 
now call State street. On the south side of the town 
house, or Old State House, was what military men 
call a court of guard, defended by two brass cannons, 
which pointed directly at one of the doors of the above 
edifice. A large party of soldiers were always sta- 
tioned in the court of guard. The custom house 
stood at a little distance down King street, nearly 
wliere the Suffolk bank now stands, and a sentinel 
was continually pacing before its front." 

" I shall remember this to-morrow," said Charley ; 



174 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" and I will go to State street, so as to see exactly 
where the British troops were stationed." 

" And before long," observed Grandfather, " I shall 
have to relate an event which made King street sadly 
famous on both sides of the Atlantic. The history of 
our chair will soon bring us to this melancholy busi- 
ness." 

Here Grandfather described the state of things 
which arose from the ill will that existed between the 
inhabitants and the red-coats. The old and sober part 
of the townspeople were very angry at the government 
for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray- 
headed men were cautious, and kept their thoughts 
and feelings in their own breasts, without putting 
themselves in the way of the British bayonets. 

The 3'ounger people, however, could hardly be kept 
within such prudent limits. They reddened with wrath 
at the very sight of a soldier, and would have been 
willing to come to blows with them at any moment. 
For it was their opinion ^that every tap of a British 
drum within the peninsula of Boston was an insult to 
the brave old town. 

"It was sometimes the case," continued Grand- 
father, "that affrays happened between such wild 
young men as these and small parties of the soldiers. 
!No weapons had hitherto been used except fists or 
cudgels. But when men have loaded muskets in their 
hands, it is easy to foretell that they will soon be 
turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their 
anger." 

" Grandfather," said little Alice, looking fearfully 
into his face, " your voice sounds as though you were 
going to tell us something awful ! " 



CHAPTER Y. 

Little Alice, by her last remark, proved herself a 
good judge of what was expressed by the tones of 
Grandfather's voice. He had given the above descrip- 
tion of the enmity between the town's people and the 
soldiers in order to prepare the minds of his auditors 
for a very terrible event. It was one that did more 
to heighten the quarrel between England and Amer- 
ica than anything that had yet occurred. 

Without further preface, Grandfather began the 
story of 

THE BOSTON MASSACRE. 

It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset 
music of the British regiments was heard as usual 
throughout the town. The shrill fife and rattling drum 
awoke the echoes in King street, while the last ray of 
sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the town 
house. And now all the sentinels were posted. One 
of them marched up and down before the Custom 
House, treading a short path through the snow, and 
longing for the time when he would be dismissed to 
the warm fire-side of the guard room. Meanwhile 
Captain Preston was, perhaps, sitting in our great 
chair before the hearth of the British Coffee House. 
In the course of the evening there were two or three 
slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that 
trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men 



176 GRANDFATHER'S OHAIR. 

stood at the corners of the streets or walked along the 
narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers who were dis- 
missed from duty passed bj them, shoulder to shoul- 
der, with the regular step M'hich they had learned at 
the drill. Whenever these encounters took place, it 
appeared to be the object of the young men to treat 
the soldiers with as nmch incivility as possible. 

" Turn out, you lobster-backs ! " one would say. 

" Crowd them off the sidewalks ! " another would cry. 
" A red-coat has no right in Boston streets ! " 

" O, you rebel rascals ! " perhaps the soldiers would 
reply, glaring fiercely at the young men. " Some day 
or other we'll make our way through Boston streets 
at the point of the bayonet ! " 

Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a 
scufile ; which passed off, however, without attracting 
much notice. About eight o'clock, for some unknown 
cause, an alarm-bell rang loudly and hurriedly. 

At the sound many people ran out of their houses, 
supposing it to be an alarm of fire. But there w^ere 
no flames to be seen, nor was there any smell of smoke 
in the clear, frosty air ; so that most of the townsmen 
went back to their own fire-sides and sat talking with 
their wives and children about the calamities of the 
times. Others who were younger and less prudent re- 
mained in the streets ; for there seems to have been a 
presentiment that some strange event was on the eve 
of taking place. 

Later in the evening, not far from nine o'clock, sev- 
eral young men passed by the Town House and walked 
down King street. The sentinel was still on liis post 
in front of the custom house, pacing to and fro ; 
while, as he turned, a gleam of light from some neigh- 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 1Y7 

boring window glittered on the barrel of his musket. 
At no great distance were the barracks and the guard- 
house, where his comrades were probably telling stories 
of battle and bloodshed. 

Down towards the custom house, as I told you, 
came a party of wild young men. When they drew 
near the sentinel he halted on his post, and took his 
musket from his shoulder, ready to present the bayo- 
net at their breasts. 

" "Who goes there ? " he cried, in the gruff, peremp- 
tory tones of a soldier's challenge. 

The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they 
had a right to walk their own streets without being 
accountable to a British red-coat, even though he 
challenged them in King George's name. They 
made some rude answer to the sentinel. There was 
a dispute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other soldiers heard 
the noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist 
their comrades. At the same time many of the 
town's people rushed into King street by various ave- 
nues, and gathered in a crowd round about the custom 
house. It seemed wonderful how such a multitude 
had started up all of a sudden. 

The wrongs and insults which the people had been 
suffering for many months now kindled them into a 
rage. They threw snow-balls and lumps of ice at the 
soldiers. As the tumult grew louder it reached the 
ears of Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He 
immediately ordered eight soldiers of the main guard 
to take their muskets and follow him. They marched 
across the street, forcing their way roughly through 
the crowd, and pricking the town's people with their 
bayonets. 

13 



178 GRAWDFATEEE'S CHAIR. 

A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterwards gen- 
eral of the American artillery) caught Captain Pres- 
ton's arm. 

" For Heaven's sake, sir," exclaimed he, " take heed 
what yon do, or there will be bloodshed." 

" Stand aside ! " answered Captain Preston, haugh- 
tily. " Do not interfere, sir. Leave me to manage 
the affair." 

Arriving at the sentinel's post, Captain Preston 
drew up his men in a semicircle, with their faces to 
the crowd and their rear to the custom house. When 
the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening 
attitude with wliich the soldiers fronted them, their 
rage became almost uncontrollable. 

" Fire, you lobster-backs ! " bellowed some. 

" You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats ! " cried 
others. 

" Rush upon them ! " shouted many voices. " Drive 
the rascals to their barracks ! Down with them ! 
Down with them ! Let them fire if they dare ! " 

Amid the uproar, the soldiers stood glaring at the 
people with the fierceness of men whose trade was to 
shed blood. 

Oh, what a crisis had now arrived ! Up to this 
very moment, the angry feelings between England and 
America might liave been pacified. England had but 
to stretch out the hand of reconciliation, and ac- 
knowledge that she had hitherto mistaken her rights, 
but would do so no more. Then the ancient bonds 
of brotherhood would again have been knit together 
as firmly as in old times. The habit of loyalty, which 
had grown as strong as instinct, was not utterly over- 
come. The perils shared, the victories won, in the 



ORANDFATEER'S CHAIR. 179 

Old French War, when the soldiers of the colonies 
fought side by side with their comrades from beyond 
the sea, were unforgotten jet. England was still that 
beloved country which the colonists called their 
home. King George, though he had frowned upon 
America, was still reverenced as a father. 

But should the king's soldiers shed one drop of 
American blood, then it was a quarrel to the death. 
!Never — never M'ould America rest satisfied until she 
had torn down the royal authority and trampled it in 
the dust. 

" Fire, if you dare, villains ! " hoarsely shouted the 
people, while the muzzles of the muskets were turned 
upon them, " you dare not fire ! " 

They appeared ready to rush upon the levelled 
bayonets. Captain Preston waved his sword, and ut- 
tered a command which could not be distinctly heard 
amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a hundred 
throats. But his soldiers deemed that he had spoken 
the fatal mandate — " fire ! " The fiash of their mus- 
kets lighted up the streets, and the report rang loudly 
between the edifices. It was said, too, that the figure 
of a man, with a cloth hanging down over his face, 
was seen to step into the balcony of the custom house 
and discharge a musket at the crowd. 

A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It 
rose heavily, as if it were loath to reveal the dreadful 
spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of New 
England lay stretched upon the street. Some, sorely 
wounded, were struggling to rise again. Others 
stirred not nor groaned ; for they were past all pain. 
Blood was streaming upon the snow ; and that purple 
stain in the midst of King street, though it melted 



180 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

away in the next day's sun, was never forgotten nor 
forgiven by the people. 



Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs of 
little Alice. In his earnestness he had neglected to 
soften down the narrative so that it might not terrify 
the heart of this unworldly infant. Since Grand- 
father began the history of our chair, little Alice had 
listened to many tales of war. But probably the idea 
had never really impressed itself upon her mind that 
men have shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. 
And now that this idea was forcibly presented to her, 
it affected the sweet child with -bewilderment and 
horror, 

"I ought to have remembered our dear little 
Alice," said Grandfather reproachfully to himself. 
" Oh, what a pity ! Her heavenly nature has now 
received its first impression of earthly sin and vio- 
lence. "Well, Clara, take her to her bed and comfort 
her. Heaven grant that she may dream away the 
recollection of the Boston Massacre ! " 

" Grandfather," said Charley, when Clara and little 
Alice had retired, "did not the people rush upon the 
soldiers and take revenge ? " 

" The town drums beat to arms," replied Grand- 
father, "the alarm bells rang, and an immense multi- 
tude rushed into King street. Many of them had 
weapons in their hands. The British prepared to de- 
fend themselves. A whole regiment was drawn up 
in the street, expecting an attack ; for the townsmen 
appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayo- 
nets." 



QEANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 181 

"And how did it end ? " asked Charley. 

" Governor Ilntchinson hurried to the spot," said 
Grandfather, " and besought the people to have pa- 
tience, promising that strict justice should be done. 
A day or two afterward the British troops were with- 
drawn from town and stationed at Castle William. 
Captain Preston and the eight soldiers were tried for 
murder. But none of them were found guilty. The 
judges told the jury that the insults and violence 
which had been offered to the soldiers justified them 
in firing at the mob." 

"The Revolution," observed Laurence, who had 
said but little during the evening, " was not such a 
calm, majestic movement as I supposed. I do not 
love to hear of mobs and broils in the street. These 
things were unworthy of the people when they had 
such a great object to accomplish." 

" Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander move- 
ment than that of our Bevolution from first to last," 
said Grandfather. " The people, to a man, were full 
of a great and noble sentiment. True, there may be 
much fault to find with their mode of expressing this 
sentiment ; but they knew no better — the necessity 
was upon them to act out their feelings in the best 
manner they could. "We must forgive what was 
wrong in their actions, and look into their hearts and 
minds for the honorable motives that impelled them." 

" And I suppose," said Laurence, " there were men 
who knew how to act worthily of what they felt." 

" There were many such," replied Grandfather, 
" and we will speak of some of them hereafter." 

Grandfather here made a pause. That night, Char- 
ley had a dream about the Boston massacre, and 



182 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck 
down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence 
dreamed that he was sitting in our great chair, at the 
window of the British Coffee House, and beheld the 
whole scene which Grandfather had described. It 
seemed to him, in his dream, that, if the town's peo- 
ple and the soldiers would but have heard him speak 
a single word, all the slaughter might have been 
averted. But there was such an uproar that it 
drowned his voice. 

The next morning the two boys went together to 
State street and stood on the very spot where the first 
blood of the Revolution had been shed. The Old 
State House was still there, presenting almost the 
same aspect that it had worn on that memorable even- 
ing, one and seventy years ago. It is the sole remain- 
ins; witness of the Boston Massacre. 



CHAPTER YI. 

The next evening the astral lamp was lighted earlier 
than nsual, because Laurence was very much engaged 
in looking over the collection of portraits which had 
been his New Year's gift from Grandfather. 

Among them he found the features of more than 
one famous personage who had been connected with 
the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather bade 
him draw the table nearer to the fire-side ; and they 
looked over the portraits together, while Clara and 
Charley likewise lent their attention. As for little 
Alice, she sat in Grandfather's lap, and seemed to see 
the very men alive whose faces were there represented. 

Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the 
portrait of a stern, grim-looking man, in plain attire, 
of much more modern fashion than that of the old 
Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one 
of those iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was 
the name of Samuel Adams. 

" He was a man of great note in all the doings that 
brought about the Revolution," said Grandfather. 
"His character was such, that it seemed as if one of 
the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth to 
animate the people's hearts with the same abhorrence 
of tyranny that had distinguished the earliest settlers. 
He was as religious as they, as stern and inflexible, 
and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. 
He, better than any one else, may be taken as a rep- 



184 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

resentative of the people of New England, and of the 
spirit witli which they engaged in the Revolutionary 
struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread 
by an humble occupation ; but with his tongue and 
pen he made the king of England tremble on his 
throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the 
strong men of our country." 

" Here is one whose looks show a very different 
character," observed Laurence, turning to the portrait 
of John Hancock. " I should think, by his splendid 
dress and courtly aspect, that he M'as one of the king's 
friends." 

" There never was a greater contrast than between 
Samuel Adams and John Hancock," said Grandfather. 
" Yet they were of the same side in politics, and had 
an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was 
born to the inheritance of the largest fortune in New 
England. His tastes and habits were aristocratic. 
He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, mag- 
nificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was 
glittering and pompous in external things. His man- 
ners were so polished that there stood not a nobleman 
at the footstool of King George's throne who was a 
more skilful courtier than John Hancock might have 
been. Nevertheless, he in his embroidered clothes, 
and Samuel Adams in his thread-bare coat, wrought 
together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted fi'om 
pure and rigid principle. Hancock, though he loved 
his country, yet thought quite as much of his own 
popularity as he did of the people's rights. It is re- 
markable that these two men, so very different as I 
describe them, were the only two exempted from 
pardon by the king's proclamation." 



OEANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 1S5 

On the next leaf of tlie book was the portrait of 
General Joseph Warren. Charley recognized the 
name, and said that here was a greater man than 
either Hancock or Adams. 

" Warren w^as an eloquent and able patriot," replied 
Grandfather. " He deserves a lasting memory for 
his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty. Ko man's 
voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph 
Warren's. If his death had not happened so early in 
the contest, he would probably have gained a high 
name as a soldier." 

The next portrait was a venerable man, who held 
his thumb under his chin, and, through his spec- 
tacles, appeared to be attentively reading a manu- 
script. 

"Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that 
ever lived," said Grandfather. "This is Benjamin 
Franklin ! But I will not try to compress into a few 
sentences the character of the sage, who, as a French- 
man expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky, 
and the sceptre from a tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help 
you to the knowledge of Franklin." 

The book likewise contained portraits of James 
Otis and Josiah Quincy. Both of them. Grandfather 
observed, were men of wonderful talents and true 
patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones 
of a trumpet arousing the country to defend its free- 
dom. Heaven seemed to have provided a greater 
number of eloquent men than had appeared at au}- 
other period, in order that the people might be fully 
instructed as to their wrongs and the method of re- 
sistance. 

"It is marvellous," said Grandfather, " to see how 



1S6 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 

many powerful M^riters, orators, and soldiers started 
np just at the time when tliey were wanted. There 
was a man for every kind of work. It is equally 
wonderful that men of sucii different characters were 
all made to unite in the one object of establishing the 
freedom and independence of America. There was 
an overruling Providence above them." 

" Here was another great man," remarked Laurence, 
pointing to the portrait of John Adams. 

" Yes ; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and 
most able man," said Grandfather. " At the period 
of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer in 
Boston. He was destined in after years to be ruler 
over the whole American people, whom he contiibuted 
so much to form into a nation." 

Gandfather here remarked that many a New-Eng- 
lander, who had passed his boyhood and youth in 
obscurity, afterward attained to a fortune which 
he never could have foreseen even in his most am- 
bitious dreams. John Adams, the second President 
of the United States and the equal of crowned kings, 
was once a schoolmaster and country lawyer. Han- 
cock, the first signer of the Declaration of Independ- 
ence, served his apprenticeship with a merchant. 
Samuel Adams, afterwards governor of Massachu- 
setts, was a small tradesman and a tax-gatherer. 
General Warren was a physician. General Lincoln a 
farmer, and General Knox a Bookbinder, General 
Nathaniel Greene, the best soldier, except Washing- 
ton, in the Revolutionary army, was a Quaker and a 
blacksmith. All these became illustrious men, and 
can never be forgotten in American history. 

" And any boy who is born in America may look 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 187 

forward to the same things," said our ambitious friend 
Charley. 

After these observations, Grandfather drew the 
book of portraits towards him and showed the chil- 
dren several British peers and members of Parlia- 
ment who had exerted themselves either for or 
ao-ainst the rights of America. Tliere were the Earl 
of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These 
were looked upon as deadly enemies to our country. 

Among the friends of America was Mr, Pitt, after- 
ward Earl of Chatham, who spent so much of his 
wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England 
of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down 
on the floor of the House of Lords after uttering al- 
most his dying words in defence of our privileges 
as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the 
wisest men and greatest orators that ever the world 
produced. There was Colonel Barr^, who had been 
among our fathers, and knew that they had courage 
enough to die for their rights. There was Charles 
James Eox, who never rested until he had silenced 
our enemies in the House of Commons. 

" It is very remarkable to observe how many of 
the ablest orators in the British Parliament were 
favorable to America," said Grandfather. " We 
ought to remember these great Englishmen with 
gratitude ; for their speeches encouraged our fathers 
almost as much as those of our own orators in Faneuil 
Hall and under Liberty Tree. Opinions which might 
have been received with doubt, if expressed only by 
a native American, were set down as true, beyond 
dispute, when tliey came from the lips of Chatham, 
Burke, Barre or Fox." 



188 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" But, Grandfather," asked Laurence, " were there 
no able and eloquent men in this country who took 
the part of King George ? " 

" There were many men of talent who said what 
they could in defence of the king's tyrannical pro- 
ceedings," replied Grandfather. " But they had the 
worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said 
anything worth remembering. Moreover, their hearts 
were faint and feeble ; for they felt that the people 
scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no 
defence, except in the bayonets of the British troops. 
A blight fell upon all their faculties, because i\\Qy were 
contending against the rights of their own native land." 

"What were the names of some of them?" in- 
quired Charley. 

" Governor Hutchinson, Chief Justice Oliver, 
Judge Auchmuty, the Rev. Mather Byles, and sev- 
eral other clergymen, were among the most noted 
loyalists," answered Grandfather. 

" I wish the people had tarred and feathered every 
man of them ! " cried Charle3^ 

" That wish is very wrong, Charley," said Grand- 
father. " You must not think that there was no in- 
tegrity and honor except among those who stood np 
for the freedom of America. For aught I know, 
there was quite as much of these qualities on one side 
as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable in a 
faithful adherence to an unpopular cause ? Can you 
not respect that principle of loyalty which made the 
royalists give up country, friends, fortune, everything, 
rather than be false to their king? It was a mistaken 
principle ; but many of them cherished it honorably, 
and were martyrs to it." 



GRANDFATHER' 8 CHAIR. 189 

"Oh, I was wrong!" said Charley, ingeniionsly. 
" And I would risk mj life rather than one of those 
good old royalists should be tarred and feathered." 

" The time is now come when we may judge fairly 
of them," continued Grandfather. " Be the good 
and true men among them lionoi'ed ; for they M^ere as 
much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, 
thank Heaven ! our country need not be ashamed of 
her sons, — of most of them at least, — whatever side 
they took in the revolutionary contest." 

Among the portraits was one of King George the 
Third. Little Alice clapped her hands, and seemed 
pleased with the bluff good nature of his physiog- 
nomy. But Laurence thought it strange that a man 
with such a face, indicating hardly a common share 
of intellect, should have had influence enough on 
human affairs to convnlse the world with war. 
Grandfather observed that this poor king had always 
appeared to him one of the most nnfortunate persons 
that ever lived. lie was so honest and conscientious, 
that, if he had been only a private man, his life 
would probably have been blameless and happy. 
But his was that worst of fortunes, to be placed in a 
station far beyond his abilities. 

" And so," said Grandfather, " his life, while he 
retained what intellect Heaven had gifted him with, 
was one long mortification. At last he grew crazed 
with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years, the 
monarch of England was confined as a madman. In 
his old age, too, God took away his eye-sight ; so that 
his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark, lone- 
some prison-house." 



CHAPTER YTI. 

"Our old chair," resumed Grandfather, "did not 
now stand in the midst of a gay circle of British 
officers. The troops, as I told you, had been removed 
to Castle William immediately after the Boston mas- 
sacre. Still, however, there were many tories, cus- 
tom-house officers,- and Englishmen who used to 
assemble in the British Coffee House and talk over 
the affairs of the period. Matters grew worse and 
worse ; and in 1773 the people did a deed which in- 
censed the king and ministry more than any of their 
former doings." 

Grandfather here described the affair, which is 
known by the name of the Boston Tea Party. The 
Americans, for some time past, had left off import- 
ing tea, on account of the oppressive tax. The East 
India Company, in London, had a large stock of tea 
on hand, which they had expected to sell to the 
Americans, but could find no market for it. But, 
after a while, the government persuaded this com- 
pany of merchants to send the tea to America. 

" How odd it is," observed Clara, " that the lib- 
erties of America should have had anything to do 
wdth a cup of tea ! " 

Grandfather smiled, and proceeded with his nar- 
rative. When the people of Boston heard that sev- 
eral cargoes of tea were coming across the Atlantic, 
they held a great many meetings at Faneuil Hall, in 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 191 

the Old South church, and under Liberty Tree. In 
the midst of their debates, three ships arrived in the 
harbor with the tea on board. The people spent 
more than a fortnight in consulting what should be 
done. At last, on the 16th of December, 1773, they 
demanded of Governor Hutchinson that he should 
immediately send the ships back to England. 

The governor replied that the ships must not leave 
the harbor until the custom house duties upon the tea 
should be paid. Now, the payment of these duties 
was the very thing against which the people had set 
their faces ; because it was a tax unjustly imposed 
upon America by the English government. There- 
fore, in the dusk of the evening, as soon as Governor 
Hutchinson's reply was received, an immense crowd 
hastened to Griffin's wharf, where the tea ships lay. 
The place is now called Liverpool wharf. 

" When the crowd reached the wharf," said Grand- 
father, " they saw that a set of wild-looking figures 
were already on board of the ships. You would have 
imagined that the Indian warriors of old times had 
come back again ; for they wore the Indian dress, and 
had their faces covered with red and black paint, like 
the Indians when they go to war. These grim fig- 
ures hoisted the tea chests on the decks of the vessels, 
broke them open, and threw all the contents into the 
harbor." 

"Grandfather," said little Alice, " I suppose Indians 
don't love tea ; else they would never waste it so." 

" They were not real Indians, my child," answered 
Grandfather. " They were white men in disguise; 
because a heavy punishment would have been in- 
flicted on them if the king's officers had found who 



192 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

they were. But it was never known. From that 
day to this, thougli the matter has been talked of by 
all the world, nobody can tell the names of those In- 
dian figures. Some people say that there were very 
famous men among them, who afterward became 
governors and generals. Whether this be true I can- 
not tell." 

"When tidings of this bold deed were carried to 
England, King George was greatly enraged. Parlia- 
ment immediately passed an act, by which all vessels 
were forbidden to take in or discharo-e their cargoes 
at the port of Boston. In this \vay they expected to 
ruin all the merchants, and starve the poor people, by 
depriving them of employment. At the same time 
another act Avas passed, taking away many rights and 
privileges which had been granted in the charter of 
Massachusetts. 

Governor Hntchinson, soon afterward, was sum- 
moned to England, in order that he might give his 
advice about .the management of American aftairs. 
General Gage, an officer of the Old French War, 
and since commander-in-chief of the British forces in 
America, was appointed governor in his stead. One 
of his first acts was to make Salem, instead of Boston, 
the metropolis of Massachusetts, by summoning the 
General Court to meet there. 

According to Grandfather's description, this was 
the most gloomy time that Massachusetts had ever 
seen. The people groaned under as heavy a tyranny 
as in the days of Sir Edmund Andros. Boston looked 
as if it were afflicted with some dreadful pestilence, 
— so sad were the inhabitants, and so desolate the 
streets. There was no cheerful hum of business. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 193 

The merchants shut up their warehouses, and the la- 
borino; men stood idle about the wharves. Biit all 
America felt interested in the good town of Boston ; 
and contributions were raised, in many places, for the 
relief of the poor inhabitants. 

" Our dear old chair ! " exclaimed Clara. " How 
dismal it must have been now ! " 

" Oh," replied Grandfather, " a gay throng of offi- 
cers had now come back to the British Coffee House ; 
so that the old chair had no lack of mirthful com- 
pany. Soon after General Gage became governor a 
great many troops had arrived, and were encamped 
upon the Common. Boston was now a garrisoned 
and fortified town ; for the general had built a bat- 
tery across the neck, on the road to Roxbury, and 
placed guards for its defence. Everything looked as 
if a civil war were close at hand." 

" Did the people make ready to fight ? " asked Char- 
ley. 

"A continental Congress assembled at Philadel- 
phia," said Grandfather, " and proposed such meas- 
ures as they thought most conducive to the public 
good. A provincial Congress was likewise chosen in 
Massachusetts. They exhorted the people to arm and 
discipline themselves. A great number of minute 
men were enrolled. The Americans called them min- 
ute men, because they engaged to be ready to fight at 
a minute's warning. The English officers laughed, 
and said that the name was a very proper one, be- 
cause the minute men would run away the minute 
they saw the enemy. Whether they would fight or 
run was soon to be proved." 

Grandfather told the children that the first open 
13 



194: GRANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 

resistance offered to the British troops, in the province 
of Massaclinsetts, was at Salem. Colonel Timothy 
Pickering, with thirty or forty militia men, prevented 
the English colonel, Leslie, with four times as many 
regular soldiers, from taking possession of some mili- 
tary stores. ISTo blood was shed on this occasion ; but 
soon afterward it began to flow. 

General Gage sent eight hundred soldiers to Con- 
cord, about eighteen miles from Boston, to destroy 
some ammunition and provisions which the colonists 
had collected there. They set out on their march on 
the evening of the ISth of April, 1775. The next 
morning, the general sent Lord Percy with nine hun- 
dred men to strengthen the troops that had gone be- 
fore. All that day the inhabitants of Boston heard 
various rumors. Some said that the British were mak- 
ing great slaughter among our countrymen. Others 
affirmed that every man had turned out with his mus- 
ket, and not a single British soldier would ever get 
back to Boston. 

" It was after sunset," continued Grandfather," when 
the troops, who had marched forth so proudly, were 
seen entering Charlestown. They were covered with 
dust, and so hot and weary that their tongues hung 
out of their mouths. Many of them were faint with 
wounds. They had not all returned. Nearly three 
hundred were strewn, dead or dying, along the road 
from Concord. The yeomanry had risen upon the 
invaders and driven them back." 

" Was this the battle of Lexington ? " asked Char- 
ley. 

" Yes,-' replied Grandfather ; " it was so called, be- 
cause the British, without provocation, had fired upon 



GBANDFATHEB'S CHAIR. 195 

a party of minute men, near Lexington meeting-house, 
and killed eight of them. That fatal volley, which 
was fired by order of Major Pitcairn, began the war 
of the Revolution." 

About this time, if Grandfather had been correctly 
informed, our chair disappeared from the British 
Coffee House. The manner of its departure cannot 
be satisfactorily ascertained. Perhaps the keeper of 
the Coffee House turned it out of doors on account of 
its old-fashioned aspect. Perhaps he sold it as a cu- 
riosity. Perhaps it was taken, without leave, by some 
person who regarded it as public property because it 
had once figured under Liberty Tree. Or, perhaps, 
the old chair, being of a peaceable disposition, had 
made use of its foui- oaken legs and run away from 
the seat of war. 

" It would have made a terrible clattering over the 
pavement," said Charley, laughing. 

" Meanwhile," continued Grandfather, " during the 
mysterious non-appearance of our chair, an army of 
twenty thousand men had started up and come to the 
siege of Boston. General Gage and his troops were 
cooped up within the narrow precincts of the penin- 
sula. On the 17tli of June, 1TY5, the famous battle 
of Bunker Hill was fought. Here General Warren 
fell. The British got the victory, indeed, but with 
the loss of more than a thousand officers and men." 

" Oh, Grandfather," cried Charley, " you must tell 
us about that famous battle." 

" 1^0, Charley," said Grandfather, " I am not like 
other historians. Battles shall not hold a prominent 
place in the history of our quiet and comfortable old 
chair. But to-morrow evening, Laurence, Clara, and 



196 OBANDFATEEB'S CHAIR. 

yourself, and dear little Alice too, shall visit the dio- 
rama of Bunker Hill. There you shall see the whole 
business, the burning of Charlestown and all, with 
your own eyes, and hear the cannon and musketry 
with your own ears." 



CHAPTER YIII. 

The next evening but one, when the children had 
given Grandfather a full account of the diorama of 
Bunker Hill, they entreated him not to keep them 
any longer in suspense about the fate of his chair. 
The reader will recollect that, at the last accounts, it 
had trotted away upon its poor old legs nobody 
knew whither. But, before gratifying their curiosity, 
Grandfather found it necessary to say something 
about public events. 

The continental Congress, which was assembled at 
Philadelphia, was composed of delegates from all the 
colonies. They had now appointed George Wash- 
ington, of Yirginia, to be commander-in-chief of all 
the American armies. He was, at that time, a mem- 
ber of Congress ; but immediately left Philadelphia, 
and began his journey to Massachusetts. On the 3d 
of July, 1775, he arrived at Cambridge, and took 
command of the troops, which were besieging General 
Gage. 

" Oh ! Grandfather," exclaimed Laurence, " it 
makes my heart throb to think what is coming now. 
"We are to see General Washington himself." 

The children crowded around Grandfather and 
looked earnestly into his face. Even little Alice 
opened her sweet blue eyes, with her lips apart, and 
almost held her breath to listen ; so instinctive is the 
reverence of childhood for the father of his country. 



198 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

Grandfather paused a moment ; for he felt as if it 
might be irreverent to introduce the hallowed shade 
of Washington into a history where an ancient elbow 
chair occupied the most prominent place. However, 
he determined to proceed with his narrative, and 
speak of the hero when it was needful, but with an 
unambitious simplicity. 

So Grandfather told his auditors, that, on General 
Washington's arrival at Cambridge, his first care was 
to reconnoitre the British troops wnth his spy-glass, 
and to examine the condition of his own army. He 
found that the American troops amounted to about 
fourteen thousand men. They were extended all 
round the peninsula of Boston, a space of twelve 
miles, from the high grounds of Roxbury on the 
right to Mystic Biver on the left. Some were living 
in tents of sail-cloth, some in shanties rudely con- 
structed of boards, some in huts of stone or turf with 
curious windows and doors of basket-work. 

In order to be near the centre and oversee the 
whole of this M'ide-stretched army, the commander-in 
chief made his headquarters at Cambridge, about half 
a mile from the colleges. A mansion-house, which 
perhaps had been the country-seat of some tory gen- 
tleman, was provided for his residence. 

" When General Washington first entered this man- 
sion," said Grandfather, " he was ushered up the 
stair-case and shown into a handsome apartment. He 
sat down in a large chair, which was the most con- 
spicuous object in the room. The noble figure of 
Washington would have done honor to a throne. As 
he sat there, with his hand resting on the hilt of his 
sheathed sword, which was placed between his knees, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 199 

his whole aspect well befitted the chosen man on 
whom his country leaned for the defence of her dear- 
est rights. America seemed safe under his protec- 
tion. His face was grander than any sculptor had 
ever wrought in marble ; none could behold him with- 
out awe and reverence. E^ever before had the lion's 
head at the summit of the chair looked down upon 
Buch a face and form as Washington's." 

" Why ! Grandfather ! " cried Clara, clasping her 
hands in amazement, " was it really so ? Did Gen- 
eral Washington sit in our great chair ? " 

" I knew how it would be," said Laurence ; " I fore- 
saw it the moment Grandfather began to speak." 

Grandfather smiled. But, turning from the per- 
sonal and domestic life of the illustrious leader, he 
spoke of the methods which Washington adopted to 
win back the metropolis of i^ew England from the 
British. 

The army, wdien he took command of it, was with- 
out any discipline or order. The privates considered 
themselves as good as their officers ; and seldom 
thought it necessary to obey their commands, unless 
they understood the why and wherefore. Moreover, 
they were enlisted for so short a period, that, as soon 
as they began to be respectable soldiers, it was time 
to discharge them. Then came new recruits, who 
had to be taught their duty before they could be of 
any service. Such was the army with which Wash- 
ington had to contend against more than twenty 
veteran British regiments. 

Some of the men had no muskets, and almost all 
were without bayonets. Heavy cannon, for battering 
the British fortifications, were much wanted. There 



200 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR 

was but a small quantity of powder and ball, few tools 
to build iutrenclimeuts with, and a great deficiency 
of provisions and clothes for the soldiers. Yet, in 
spite of these perplexing difficulties, the eyes of the 
whole people wei-e fixed on General Washington, 
expecting him to undertake some great enterprise 
against the hostile army, 

Tlie first thing that he found necessary was to bring 
his own men into better order and discipline. It is 
wondei'ful how soon he transformed this rough mob 
of country people into the semblance of a regular 
army. One of Washington's most invaluable charac- 
teristics was the faculty of bringing order out of con- 
fusion. All business with which he had any concern 
seemed to regulate itself as if by magic. The influ- 
ence of his mind was like light gleaming through an 
unshaped world. It was this faculty, more than any 
other, that made him so fit to ride upon the storm of 
the Eevolution when everything was unfixed and 
drifting about in a troubled sea. 

" Washington had not been long at the head of the 
army," proceeded Grandfather, " before his soldiers 
thought as highly of him as if he had led them to a 
hundred victories. They knew that he was the very 
man whom the country needed, and the only one who 
could bring them safely through the great contest 
against the might of England. They put entire con- 
fidence in his courage, wisdom, and integrity." 

" And were they not eager to follow him against 
the Bi-itish ? " asked Charley. 

" Doubtless they would have gone whithersoever 
his sword pointed the way," answered Grandfather ; 
" and Washino;ton was anxious to make a decisive 



OBAJYI) FATHER'S CHAIR. 201 

assault upon the enemy. But as the enterprise was 
very hazardous, he called a council of all the generals 
in the army. Accordingly they carne from their dif- 
ferent posts, and were ushered into the reception-room. 
The commander-in-chief ai:ose from our great chair 
to greet them." 

" What were their names ? " asked Charley. 

" There was General Artemas Ward," replied 
Grandfather, " a lawyer by profession. He had com- 
manded the troops before Washington's arrival. An- 
nother was General Charles Lee, who had been a 
colonel in the English army, and was thought to pos- 
sess vast military science. He came to the council, 
followed by two or three dogs which were always at 
his heels. There was General Putnam too, M'ho was 
known all over New England by the name of Old Put." 

" Was it he who killed the wolf ? " inquired Char- 
ley. 

" The same," said Grandfather ; " and he had done 
good service in the old French War. His occupation 
was that of a farmer ; but he left his plough in the 
furrow at the news of Lexington battle. Then there 
was General Gates, who afterward gained great re- 
nown at Saratoga, and lost it again at Camden. Gen- 
eral Greene, of Rhode Island, was likewise at the 
council. Washington soon discovered him to be one 
of the best officers in the army." 

When the generals were all assembled, Washington 
consulted them about a plan for storming the English 
batteries. But it was their unanimous opinion that 
so perilous an enterprise ought not to be attempted. 
The army, therefore, continued to besiege Boston, 
preventing the enemy from obtaining supplies of pro- 



202 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

visions, but without taking any immediate measures 
to get possession of the town. In this manner tlie 
summer, autumn, and winter passed awaj. 

"Many a night, doubtless," said Grandfather, 
" after Washington had been all day on horseback, 
galloping from one post of the army to another, he 
used to sit in our great chair, wrapt in earnest 
thought. Had }'ou seen him, you might have sup- 
posed that his wliole mind was fixed on the blue 
china tiles which adorned the old fashioned fireplace. 
But, in reality, he was meditating how to capture the 
British army, or drive it out of Boston. Once, when 
there was a hard frost, he formed a scheme to cross 
the Charles River on the ice. But the other generals 
could not be persuaded that there was any prospect 
of success." 

" What were the British doing all this time ? " in- 
quired Charley. 

" They lay idle in the town," replied Grandfather. 
" General Gage had been recalled to England, and 
was succeeded by Sir William Howe. The British 
army and the inhabitants of Boston were now in great 
distress. Being shut up in the town so long, they had 
consumed almost all their provisions and burned up 
all their fuel. The soldiers tore down the Old JSTorth 
church, and used its rotten boards and timbers for 
firewood. To heighten their distress, the smallpox 
broke out. They probably lost far more men by cold, 
hunger, and sickness than had been slain at Lexington 
and Bunker Hill." 

" What a dismal time for the poor women and chil- 
dren ! " exclaimed Clara. 

" At length," continued Grandfather, " in March, 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 203 

1776, General Washington, who had now a good 
supply of powder, began a terrible cannonade and 
bombardment from Dorchester heights. One of the 
cannon-balls which he fired into the town struck the 
tower of the Brattle Street church, where it may 
still be seen. Sir William Howe made preparations 
to cross over in boats and drive the Americans from 
their batteries, but was prevented by a violent gale 
and storm. General Wasliington next erected a bat- 
tery on ISTook's hill, so near the enemj^ that it was im- 
possible for them to remain in Boston any longer." 

" Hurra ! Hurra ! " cried Charley, clapping his 
hands triumphantly. " I wish I had been there to see 
how sheepish the Englishmen looked." 

And, as Grandfather thought that Boston had never 
witnessed a more interesting period than this, when 
the royal power was in its death agony, he determined 
to take a peep into the town and imagine the feelings 
of those who were quitting it forever. 



CHAPTER IX. 

" Alas ! for the poor tories ! " said Grandfather. 
" Until the very last morning after Washington's 
troops had shown themselves on [Nook's hill, these 
unfortunate persons could not believe that the auda- 
cious rebels, as they called the Americans, would ever 
prevail against King George's army. But when they 
saw the British soldiers preparing to embark on board 
of the ships of war, then they knew that they had lost 
their country. Could the patriots have known how 
bitter were their regrets, they would have forgiven 
them all their evil deeds, and sent a blessing after 
them as they sailed away from their native shore." 

In order to make the children sensible of the piti- 
able condition of these men. Grandfather singled out 
Peter Oliver, chief justice of Massachusetts under the 
crown, and imagined him walking through the streets 
of Boston on the morning before he left it forever. 

This effort of Grandfather's fancy may be called — 

THE Tory's farewell. 

Old Chief Justice Oliver threw on his red cloak, 
and placed his three-cornered hat on the top of his 
white wig. In this garb he intended to go forth and 
take a parting look at objects that had been familiar 
to him from his youth. Accordingly, he began his 
walk in the north part of the town, and soon came to 



OBANDFATHER'S CHAIB. 205 

Faneuil Hall. This edifice, the cradle of liberty, had 
beeu used by the British officers as a play-house. 

" "Would that I could see its walls crumble to dust ! " 
thought the chief justice ; and, in the bitterness of his 
heart, he shook his fist at the famous hall. " There 
began the mischief which now threatens to rend asun- 
der the British empire ! The seditious harangues of 
demaorogues in Faneuil Hall have made rebels of a 
loyal people and deprived me of my country. " 

He then passed througli a narrow avenue and found 
himself in King Street, almost on the very spot which, 
six years before, had been reddened by the blood of 
the Boston Massacre. The chief justice stept cau- 
tiously, and shuddered, as if he were afraid that, even 
now, the gore of his slaughtered countrymen might 
stain his feet. 

Before him rose the town house, on the front of 
which were still displayed the royal arins. Within 
that edifice he had dispensed justice to the people in 
the days when his name was never mentioned without 
honor. There, too, was the balcony whence the trum- 
pet had been sounded and the proclamation read to 
an assembled multitude, whenever a new king of Eng- 
land ascended the throne. 

"I remember — I remember," said Chief Justice 
Oliver to himself, " when his present most sacred maj- 
esty was proclaimed. Then how tlie people shouted ! 
Each man would have poured out his life-blood to keep 
a hair of Kinoj George's head from harm. But now 
there is scarcely a tongue in all Kew England that 
does not imprecate curses on his name. It is ruin and 
disgrace to love him. Can it be possible that a few 
fleeting years have wrought such a change ! " 



206 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

It did not occur to the chief justice that nothing but 
the most grievous tyranny could so soon have changed 
the people's hearts. Hurrying from the spot, he 
entered Cornhill, as the lower part of "Washington 
Street was then called. Opposite to the Town House 
was the waste foundation of the Old North church. 
The sacrilegious hands of the British soldiers had torn 
it down, and kindled their barrack fires with the frag- 
ments. 

Farther on he passed beneath the tower of the Old 
South. The threshold of this sacred edifice was worn 
by the iron tramp of horses' feet ; for the interior 
had been used as a riding-school and rendezvous, for 
a regiment of dragoons. As the chief justice lin- 
gered an instant at the door a trumpet sounded 
within, and the regiment came clattering forth and 
galloped down the street. They were proceeding to 
the place of embarkation. 

"Let them go!" thought the chief justice, with 
somewhat of an old puritan feeling in his breast. 
" No good can come of men who desecrate the house 
of God." 

He went on a few steps farther, and paused before 
the Province House. No range of brick stores had 
then sprung up to hide the mansion of the royal gov- 
ernors from public view. It had a spacious court- 
yard, bordered with trees, and enclosed with a wrought 
iron fence. On the cupola that surmounted the edi- 
fice was the gilded figure of an Indian chief, ready to 
let fly an arrow from his bow. Over the wide front 
door was a balcony, in which the chief justice had 
often stood when the governor and high officers of 
the province showed themselves to the people. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 207 

While Chief Justice Oliver gazed sadly at the Prov- 
ince House, before which a sentinel was pacing, the 
double leaves of the door were thrown open, and Sir 
William Howe made his appearance. Behind him 
came a throng of officers, whose steel scabbards clat- 
tered against the stones as they hastened down the 
court-yard. Sir William Howe was a dark-complex- 
ioned man, stern and haughty in his deportment. 
He stepped as proudly, in that hour of defeat, as if 
he were going to receive the submission of the rebel 
general. 

The chief justice bowed and accosted him. 

" This is a grievous hour for both of us, Sir Wil- 
liam," said he. 

'• Forward ! gentlemen," said Sir William Howe to 
the officers who attended him : " we have no time to 
hear lamentations now ! " 

And, coldly bowing, he departed. Thus the chief 
justice had a foretaste of the mortifications which the 
exiled iN'ew Englanders afterwards suffered from the 
haughty Britons. They were despised even by that 
country which they had served more faithfully than 
their own. 

A still heavier trial awaited Chief Justice Oliver, 
as he passed onward from the Province House. He 
was recognized by the people in the street. They 
had long known him as the descendant of an ancient 
and honorable family. They had seen him sitting in 
his scarlet robes upon the judgment seat. All his 
life long, either for the sake of his ancestors or on 
account of his own dignified station and unspotted 
character, he had been held in high respect. The old 
gentry of the province were looked upon almost as 



208 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

noblemen while Massachusetts was under royal gov- 
ernment. 

But now, all hereditary reverence for birth and rank 
was gone. The inhabitants shouted in derision when 
they saw the venerable form of the old chief justice. 
They laid the wrongs of the country and their own 
sufferings during the siege — their hunger, cold, and 
sickness — partly to his charge and to that of his 
brother Andrew and his kinsman Hutchinson. It 
was by tlieir advice that the king had acted in all 
the colonial troubles. But the day of recompense 
was come. 

" See the old tory ! '' cried the people, with bitter 
laughter. " He is taking his last look at us. Let 
him show his white wig among us an hour hence, and 
we'll give him a coat of tar and feathers ! " 

The chief justice, however, knew that he need fear 
no violence so long as the British troops were in pos- 
session of the town. But, alas ! it was a bitter thought 
that he should leave no loving memory behind him. 
His forefathers, long after their spirits left the earth, 
had been honored in the affectionate remembrance of 
the people. But he, who would henceforth be dead 
to his native land, would have no epitaph save scorn- 
ful and vindictive words. The old man wept. 

" They curse me — they invoke all kinds of evil on 
my head ! " thought he, in the midst of his tears. 
" But, if they could read my heart, they would know 
that I love IS^ew England well. Heaven bless her, 
and bring her again under the rule of our gracious 
king! A blessing, too, on these poor, misguided 
people ! " 

The chief justice flung out his hands with a ges- 



GRANDFATHER' 8 CHAIR. 209 

ture, as if he were bestowing a parting benediction on 
his countrymen. He had now reached the southern 
portion of the town, and was far within the range of 
cannon shot from the American batteries. Close be- 
side him was the broad stump of a tree, whicli ap- 
peared to have been recently cut down. Being 
weary and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down 
upon the stump. 

Suddenly it flashed upon his recollection that this 
was the stump of Liberty Tree ! The British soldiers 
had cut it down, vainly boasting that they could as 
easily overthrow the liberties of America. Under its 
shadowy branches, ten years before, the brother of 
Chief Justice Oliver had been compelled to acknowl- 
edge the supremacy of the people by taking the oath 
which they prescribed. This tree was connected with 
all the events that had severed America from Eng- 
land. 

" Accursed tree ! " cried the chief justice, gnashing 
his teeth : for anger overcame his sorrow. " "Would 
that thou hadst been left standing till Hancock, 
Adams, and every other traitor, were hanged upon 
thy branches ! Then fitly mightest thou have been 
hewn down and cast into the flames." 

He turned back, hurried to Long wharf without 
looking behind him, embarked with the British 
troops for Halifax, and never saw his country more. 
Throughout the remainder of his days Chief Justice 
Oliver was agitated with those same conflicting emo- 
tions that had tortured him while taking his farewell 
walk through the streets of Boston. Deep love and 
fierce resentment burned in one flame within his breast. 
Anathemas struggled with benedictions. He felt as 
14 



210 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

if one breath of his native air would renew his life, 
yet would have died rather than breathe the same air 
with rebels. And such likewise were the feelino-s of 
the other exiles, a thousand in number, who departed 
with the British army. Were they not the most un- 
fortunate of men ? 



" The misfortunes of those exiled tories," observed 
Laurence, " must have made them think of the poor 
exiles of Acadia." 

" They had a sad time of it, I suppose," said Char- 
ley. " But I choose to rejoice with the patriots, 
rather than be sorrowful with the tories. Grand- 
father, what did General "Washington do now ? " 

" As the rear of the British army embarked from 
the wharf," replied Grandfather, " General Washing- 
ton's troops marched over the neck, through the forti- 
fication gates, and entered Boston in triumph. And 
now, for the first time since the pilgrims landed, Massa- 
chusetts was free from the dominion of England. 
May she never again be subjected to foreign rule, — 
nev^er again feel the rod of oppression ! " 

" Dear Grandfather," asked little Alice, " did Gen- 
eral Washington bring our chair back to Boston ? " 

" I know not how long the chair remained at Cam- 
bridge," said Grandfather. " Had it stayed there till 
this time, it could not have found a better or more 
appropriate shelter. The mansion which General 
Washington occupied is still standing ; and his apart- 
ments have since been tenanted by several eminent 
men. Governor Everett, while a professor in the uni- 
versity, resided there. So at an after period did Mr. 
Sparks, whose invaluable labors have connected his 



ORANDFATEER'S CEAIR. 211 

name with the nnmortality of Washington. And at 
this very time a venerable friend and contemporary 
of your Grandfather, after long pilgrimages beyond 
the sea, has set up his staff of rest at Washington's 
head-quarters." 

" You mean Professor Longfellow, Grandfather," 
said Laurence. " Oh, how I should love to see the 
author of those beautiful Yoices of the I^ight ! " 

" We will visit him next summer," answered Grand- 
father, " and take Clara and little Alice with us, — and 
Charley, too, if he will be quiet." 



CHAPTEE X. 

When Grandfather resumed his narrative the next 
evening, lie told the children that he had some diffi- 
culty in tracing the movements of the chair during a 
short period after General Washington's departure 
from Cambridge. 

AVithin a few months, however, it made its appear- 
ance at a shop in Boston, before the door of which 
was seen a striped pole. In the interior was displaj-ed 
a stuffed alligator, a rattlesnake's skin, a bundle of In- 
dian arrows, an old-fashioned matchlock gun, a walk- 
ing-stick of Governor Winthrop's, a wig of old Cotton 
Mather's, and a colored print of the Boston massacre. 
In short, it w^as a barber's shop, kept by a Mr. Pierce, 
who prided himself on having shaved General Wash- 
ington, Old Put, and many other famous persons. 

"This was not a very dignified situation for our 
venerable chair," continued Grandfather ; " but, you 
know, there is no better place for news than a barber's 
shop. All the events of the Revolutionary War were 
heard of there sooner than anywhere else. People 
used to sit in the chair, reading the newspaper, or 
talking, and waiting to be shaved, while Mr. Pierce, 
with his scissors and razor, was at work upon the 
heads or chins of his other customers." 

" I am sorry the chair could not betake itself to 
some more suitable place of refuge," said Laurence. 
"It was old now, and must have longed for quiet. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 213 

Besides, after it had held Washington in its arms, it 
ought not to have been compelled to receive all the 
world. It should have been put into the pulpit of 
the Old South church, or some other consecrated 
place." 

" Perhaps so," answered Grandfather. " But the 
chair, in the course of its varied existence, had grown 
so accustomed to general intercourse with society, that 
I doubt whether it would have contented itself in the 
pulpit of the Old South. Thei-e it would have stood 
solitary, or with no livelier companion than the silent 
organ, in the opposite gallery, six days out of seven. 
I incline to think that it had seldom been situated 
more to its mind than on the sanded floor of the snug 
little barber's shop." 

Then Grandfather amused his children and him- 
self with fancying all the different sorts of people who 
had occupied our chair while they awaited the leisure 
of the barber. 

Tliere was the old clergyman, such as Dr. Chaun- 
cey, wearing a M'hite wig, which the barber took from 
his head and placed upon a wig-block. Half an hour, 
perhaps, was spent in combing and powdering this 
reverend appendage to a clerical skull. There, too, 
were officers of the continental army, who required 
their hair to be pomatumed and plastered, so as to 
give them a bold and martial aspect. There, once 
in a while, was seen the thin, care-w^orn, melancholy 
visage of an old tory, with a wig that, in times long 
past, had perhaps figured at a Province House ball. 
And there, not unfi-equently, sat the rough captain 
of a privateer, just returned from a successful cruise, 
in which he had captured half a dozen richly laden 



214 GEANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

vessels belonging to King George's subjects. And, 
sometimes a rosy little scliool-boj climbed into our 
chair, and sat staring, with wide-open eyes, at the al- 
ligator, the rattlesnake, and the other curiosities of 
the barber's shop. His mother had sent him, with 
sixpence in his hand, to get his glossy curls cropped 
off. The incidents of the Revolution plentifully sup- 
plied the barber's customers with topics of conver- 
sation. They talked sorrowfully of the death of Gen- 
eral Montgomery and the failure of our troops to take 
Quebec; for the ]^ew Englanders were now as anx- 
ious to get Canada from the English as they had for- 
merly been to conquer it from the French, 

" But, very soon," said Grandfather, " came news 
from Philadelphia, the most important that America 
had ever heard of. On the 4th of July, 1YY6, Con- 
gress had signed the Declaration of Independence. 
The thirteen colonies were now free and independent 
states. Dark as our prospects were, the inhabitants 
welcomed these glorious tidings, and resolved to per- 
ish rather than again bear the yoke of England ! " 

" And I would perish, too ! " cried Charley. 

" It was a great day, — a glorious deed ! " said Lau- 
rence, coloring high with enthusiasm. " And, Grand- 
father, I love to think that the sages in Congress 
showed themselves as bold and true as the soldiers in 
the field; for it must have required more courage to 
sign the Declaration of Independence than to fight the 
enemy in battle." 

Grandfather acquiesced in Laurence's view of the 
matter. He then touched briefly and hastily upon 
the prominent events of the Revolution. The thun- 
der-storm of war had now rolled southward, and did 



QBANDFATHEB'8 CHAIR 215 

not again burst upon Massachusetts, where its first 
fur}'^ had been felt. But she contributed her full 
share to the success of the contest. "Wherever a bat- 
tle was fought, — whether at Long Island, White 
Plains, Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, or German- 
town, — some of her brave sons were found slain upon 
the field. 

In October, 1777, General Bui-gojne surrendered 
his armj^, at Saratoga, to the American general, Gates. 
The captured troops were sent to Massachusetts. Not 
long afterwards. Dr. Franklin and other American 
commissioners made a treaty at Paris, by which France 
bound herself to assist our countrymen. The gallant 
Lafayette was already fighting for our freedom by the 
side of Washington. In 1778 a French fleet, com- 
manded by Count d'Estaing, spent a considerable time 
in Boston harbor. It marks the vicissitudes of human 
affairs, that the French, our ancient enemies, should 
come hither as comrades and brethren, and that kin- 
dred England should be our foe. 

" While the war was raging in the middle and south- 
ern States," proceeded Grandfather, " Massachusetts 
had leisure to settle a new constitution of government 
instead of the royal charter. This was done in 1780. 
In the same year John Hancock, who had been presi- 
dent of Congress, was chosen governor of the state. 
He was the first whom the people had elected since 
the days of old Simon Bradstreet." 

" But, Grandfather, who had been governor since 
the British were driven away ? " inquired Laurence. 
" General Gage and Sir William Howe were the last 
whom you have told us of." 

"There had been no g-overnor for the last four 



216 GRANDFATHER'S CEAIR. 

years," replied Grandfather. "Massachusetts had 
been ruled by the legislature, to whom the people paid 
obedience of their own accord. It is one of the most 
remarkable circumstances in our history, that, when 
the charter goverment was overthrown by the war, no 
anarchy nor the slighest confusion ensued. This was 
a great honor to the people. But, now, Hancock was 
proclaimed governor by sound of trumpet; and there 
was again a settled government." 

Grandfather again adverted to the progress of the 
war. In 1781 General Greene drove the British from 
the southern states. In October of the same year Gen- 
eral Washington compelled Lord Cornwallis to sur- 
render his army, at Yorktown, in Virginia. This was 
the last great event of the revolutionary contest. 
King George and his ministers perceived that all the 
might of England could not compel America to renew 
her allegiance to the crown. After a great deal of dis- 
cussion, a treaty of peace was signed in September, 
1783. 

" Now, at last," said Grandfather, " after weary 
years of war, the regiments of Massachusetts returned 
in peace to their families. ISTow the stately and dig- 
nified leaders, such as General Lincoln and General 
Knox, with their powdered hair and their uniforms of 
blue and buff, were seen moving about the streets." 

" And little boys ran after them, I suppose," re- 
marked Charley ; " and the grown people bowed re- 
spectfully." 

" They deserved respect, for they were good men 
as well as brave," answered Grandfather. " JN^ow, too, 
the inferior officers and privates came home to seek 
some peaceful occupation. Their friends remembered 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 217 

them as slender and smooth-cheeked young men ; but 
they returned with the erect and I'igid mien of disci- 
plined soldiers. Some hobbled on crutches and wooden 
legs ; others had received wounds, which were still 
rankling in their breasts. Many, alas ! had fallen in 
battle, and perhaps were left unburied on the bloody 
field." 

"The country must have been sick of war," ob- 
served Laurence. 

" One would have thought so," said Grandfather, 
" Yet only two or three years elapsed before the folly 
of some misguided men caused another mustering of 
soldiers. This affair was called Shays' war, because 
a Captain Shays was the chief leader of the insur- 
gents." 

" O Grandfather, don't let there be another war ! " 
cried little Alice, piteously. 

Grandfather comforted his dear little girl by assur- 
ing her that there was no great mischief done. Shays' 
war happened in the latter part of 1786 and the be- 
ginning of the following year. Its principal cause 
was the badness of times. The state of Massachu- 
setts, in its public capacity, was very much in debt. 
So, likewise, were many of the people. An insurrec- 
tion took place, the object of which seems to have 
been to interrupt the course of law and get rid of 
debts and taxes. 

James Bowdoin, a good and able man, was now 
governor of Massachusetts. He sent General Lin- 
coln, at the head of four thousand men, to put down 
the insurrection. This general, who had fought 
through several hard campaigns in the Revolution, 
managed matters like an old soldier, and totally 



218 QBANDFATHER'8 CHAIR. 

defeated the rebels at the expense of very little 
blood. 

" There is but one more public event to be recorded 
in the history of our chair," proceeded Grandfather. 
" In the year 1794 Samuel Adams was elected gov- 
ernor of Massachusetts. I have told you what a dis- 
tinguished patriot he was, and how much he resembled 
the stern old Puritans. Could the ancient freemen 
of Massachusetts who lived in the days of the first 
charter have arisen from their graves, they would 
probably have voted for Samuel Adams to be gov- 
ernor." 

" Well, Grandfather, 1 hope he sat in our chair ! " 
said Clara. 

"He did," replied Grandfather. "He had long 
been in the habit of visiting the barber's shop, where 
our venerable chair, philosophically forgetful of its 
former dignities, had now spent nearly eighteen not 
micomfortable years. Such a remarkable piece of 
furniture, so evidently a relic of long-departed times, 
could not escape the notice of Samuel Adams. He 
made minute researches into its history, and ascer- 
tained what a succession of excellent and famous peo- 
ple had occupied it." 

" How did he find it out ? " asked Charley ; " for I 
suppose the chair could not tell its own histor3^" 

" There used to be a vast collection of ancient let- 
ters and other documents in the tower of the Old 
South church," answered Grandfather. Perhaps the 
history of our chair was contained among these. At 
all events, Samuel Adams appears to have been well 
acquainted with it. When he became governor, he 
felt that he could have no more honorable seat than 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 219 

that whicli had been the ancient Chair of State. 
He therefore purchased it for a trifle, and filled it wor- 
thily for three years as governor of Massachusetts." 

" And what next ? " asked Charley. 

" That is all," said Grandfather, heaving a sigh ; for 
he conld not help being a little sad at the thought 
that his stories must close here. " Samuel Adams 
died in 1803, at the age of above three-score and ten. 
He was a great patriot, but a poor man. At his 
death he left scarcely property enough to pay the ex- 
penses of his funeral. This precious chair, among 
his other effects, was sold at auction ; and your Grand- 
father, who was then in the strength of his years, be- 
came the purchaser." 

Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts that strug- 
gled for expression but could find none, looked stead- 
fastly at the chair. 

He had now learned all its history, yet was not sat- 
isfied. 

" Oh, how I wish that the chair conld speak ! " 
cried he. "After its long intercourse with man- 
kind, — after looking upon the world for ages, — what 
lessons of golden wisdom it might utter ! It might 
teach a private person how to lead a good and happy 
life, — or a statesman how to make his country pros- 
perous." 



CHAPTER XI. 

Geajstdfathek was struck by Laurence's idea that 
the historic chair should utter a voice, and thus pour 
forth the collected wisdom of two centuries. The old 
gentleman had once possessed no inconsiderable share 
of fancy ; and even now its fading sunshine occasion- 
ally glimmei'ed among his more sombre reflections. 

As the history of his chair had exhausted all his 
facts, Grandfather determined to have recourse to 
fable. So, after warning the children that they must 
not mistake this story for a true one, he related what 
we shall call — 

geajstdfather's dseam. 

Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? 
Where were you, Charley, and dear little Alice ? 
You had all gone to rest, and left old Grandfather to 
meditate alone in his gi*eat chair. The lamp had 
grown so dim that its light hardly illuminated the 
alabaster shade. The wood fire had crumbled into 
heavy embers, among which the little flames danced, 
and quivered, and sported about like fairies. 

And here sat Grandfather all by himself. He 
knew that it was bedtime ; yet he could not help 
longing to hear your merry voices, or to hold a com- 
fortable chat with some old friend ; because then his 
pillow would be visited by pleasant dreams. But, as 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 221 

neither eliildren nor friends were at hand, Grand- 
father leaned back in the great chair and closed his 
eyes, for the sake of meditating more profoundly. 

And, when Grandfather's meditations had grown 
very profound indeed, he fancied that he heard a sound 
over his head, as if somebody were preparing to speak. 

" Hem ! " it said, in a dry, husky tone. " H-e-m ! 
Hem ! " 

As Grandfather did not know that any person was 
in the room, he started up in great surprise, and peeped 
hither and thither, behind the chair, and into the re- 
cess by the fireside and at the dark nook yonder near 
the bookcase, l^obody could he see. 

" Pooh ! " said Grandfather to himself, " I must have 
been dreaming." 

But, just as he was going to resume his seat. Grand- 
father happened to look at the great chair. The rays 
of firelight were flickering upon it in such a manner 
that it really seemed as if its oaken frame were all 
alive. What ! Did it not move its elbow ? There, 
too ! It certainly lifted one of its ponderous fore-legs 
as if it had a notion of drawing itself a little nearer to 
the fire. Meanwhile the lion's head nodded at Grand- 
father with as polite and sociable a look as a lion's 
visage, carved in oak, could possibly be expected to 
assume. Well, this is strange ! 

" Good evening, my old friend," said the dry and 
husky voice, now a little clearer than before. " We 
have been intimately acquainted so long that I think 
it high time we have a chat together." 

Grandfather was looking straight at the lion's head, 
and could not be mistaken in supposing that it moved 
its lips. So here the mystery was all explained. 



222 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

" I was not aware," said Grandfather, Math a civil 
sahitation to his oaken companion, " that you pos- 
sessed the faculty of speech. Otherwise I should 
often have been glad to converse with such a solid, 
useful, and substantial if not brilliant member of so- 
ciety." 

" Oh ! " replied the ancient chair, in a quiet and easy 
tone, for it had now cleared its throat of the dust of 
ages, " I am naturally a silent and incommunicative sort 
of character. Once or twice in the coui'se of a cen- 
tury I unclose my lips. When the gentle Lady Arbella 
departed this life I uttered a groan. When the honest 
mint-master weighed his plump daughter against the 
pine-tree shillings I chuckled audibly at the joke. 
When old Simon Bradstreet took the place of the ty- 
rant Andros 1 joined in the general huzza, and ca- 
pered on my wooden legs for joy. To be sure, the by- 
standers were so fully occupied with their own feelings 
that my sympathy was quite unnoticed." 

" And have you often held a private chat with your 
friends ? " asked Grandfather. 

" ISTot often," answered the chair. " I once talked 
with Sir William Phips, and communicated my ideas 
about the witchcraft delusion. Cotton Mather had 
several conversations with me, and derived great ben- 
efit from my historical reminiscences. In the days of 
the Stamp Act I whispered in the ear of Hutchinson, 
bidding him to remember what stock his countrymen 
were descended of, and to think whether the spirit 
of their forefathers had utterly departed from them. 
The last man whom I favored with a colloquy was that 
stout old republican, Samuel Adams." 
" And how happens it," inquired Grandfather, " that 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 223 

there is no record nor tradition of your conversational 
abilities ? It is an uncommon thing to meet with a 
chair that can talk." 

" "Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving 
itself a hitch nearer to the hearth, " I am not apt to 
choose the most suitable moments for unclosing my 
lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately begun to speak, 
when my occupant, lolling back in my arms, was in- 
clined to take an after-dinner nap. Or, perhaps the 
impulse to talk may be felt at midnight, when the 
lamp burns dim and the fire crumbles into decay, and 
the studious or thoughtful man finds that his brain is 
in a mist. Of tenest, I have unwisely uttered my wis- 
dom in the ears of sick persons, when the inquietude 
of fever made them toss about upon my cushion. And 
so it happens, that, though my words make a pretty 
strong impression at the moment, 3'et my auditors in- 
variably remember them only as a dream. I should 
not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the 
same to-morrow morning." 

" Nor I either," thought Grandfather to himself. 
However, he thanked this respectable old chair for 
beginning the conversation, and begged to know 
whether it had anything particular to communicate. 

" I have been listening attentively to your narra- 
tive of my adventures," replied the chair ; " and it 
must be owned that your correctness entitles you to be 
held up as a pattern to biographers. jSTevertheless, 
there are a few omissions which I should be glad to 
see supplied. For instance, you make no mention of 
the good knight Sir Richard Saltonstall, nor of the 
famous Hugh Peters, nor of those old regicide judges, 
Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell. Yet I have borne the 



224 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 

weisfht of all those distino-inslied characters at one 
thne or another." 

Grandfather promised amendment if ever he should 
have an opportunity to repeat his narrative. The 
good old chair, which still seemed to retain a due re- 
gard for outvrard appearance, then reminded him how 
long a time had passed since it had been provided 
with a new cushion. It likewise expressed the opin- 
ion that the oaken figures on its back would show to 
much better advantage by the aid of a little varnish. 

" And I have had a complaint in this joint," con- 
tinued the chair, endeavoring to lift one of its legs, 
" ever since Charley trundled his wheelbarrow against 
me." 

" It shall be attended to," said Grandfather. " And 
now, venerable chair, I have a favor to solicit. Dur- 
ing an existence of more than two centuries you have 
had a familiar intercourse with men who were es- 
teemed the wisest of their day. Doubtless, with your 
capacious understanding, you have treasured up many 
an invaluable lesson of wisdom. You certainly have 
had time enough to guess the riddle of life. Tell us, 
poor mortals, then, how we may be happy." 

The lion's head fixed its eyes thoughtfully upon the 
fire, and the whole chair assumed an aspect of deep 
meditation. Finally, it beckoned to Grandfather 
with its elbow, and made a step sideways towards him, 
as if it had a very important secret to communicate. 

" As long as I have stood in the midst of human 
affairs," said the chair, with a very oracular enun- 
ciation, "I have constantly observed that Justice, 
Teuth, and Love are the chief ingredients of every 
happy life." 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 225 

"Justice, Truth, and Love!" exclaimed Grand- 
father. "We need not exist two centuries to find out 
that these qualities are essential to our happiness. 
This is no secret. Every human being is born with 
the instinctive knowledge of it." 

" Ah ! " cried the chair, drawing back in surprise. 
"From what I have observed of the dealings of man 
with man, and nation with nation, I never should have 
suspected that they knew this all-important secret. 
And, with this eternal lesson written in j^our soul, do 
you ask me to sift new wisdom for you out of my 
petty existence of two or three centuries ? " 

" But, my dear chair " — said Grandfather. 

" Not a word more," interrupted the chair ; "here 
I close my lips for the next hundred years. At the 
end of that period, if I shall have discovered any new 
precepts of happiness better than what Heaven has 
already taught you, they shall assuredly be giv^n to 
the world." 

In the energy of its utterance the oaken chair 
seemed to stamp its foot, and trod (we hope uninten- 
tionally) upon Grandfather's toe. The old gentleman 
started, and found that he had been asleep in the 
great chair, and that his heavy walking stick had 
fallen down across his foot. 



"Grandfather," cried little Alice, clapping her 
hands, "you must dream a new dream every night 
about our chair ! " 

Laurence, and Clara, and Charley said the same. 
But the good old gentleman shook his head, and de- 
clared that here ended the history, real or fabulous, of 
Grandfather's Chair. 
15 



